


you think fashion is your friend, my friend (fashion is danger)

by MediaWhore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (seriously so much pining), (sort of), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion!AU, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Pining Louis, Ridiculously Cliché, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediaWhore/pseuds/MediaWhore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis has one rule, and one rule only, that he simply refuses to break. He forbids himself to be attracted to anyone he might work with. No wanking to models who might wear his clothes! It’s hardly fair, considering he spends 95% of his time working with the most attractive men on the planet, but his career is more important. Besides, in Louis’ experience, it always leads to disaster. Harry Styles makes respecting the rule really damn hard though and Louis is not quite sure why."</p><p>the one where Louis is a famous British designer and Harry is the clumsy, most likely straight model that makes his heart race.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you think fashion is your friend, my friend (fashion is danger)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [You Think Fashion is Your Friend, My Friend (Fashion is Danger)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795011) by [Hazzaczuwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzaczuwa/pseuds/Hazzaczuwa), [oneitherside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneitherside/pseuds/oneitherside)



> So, this is the au you've probably read 100000x before, but i couldn't stop myself from writing because 1dday happened and Harry Styles walked a runway without stumbling or falling off. i couldn't let that go.  
> i'd like to stress that i'm very much not british and i know nothing about fashion, so suspension of disbelief is advised!
> 
> title is from fashion is danger by flight of the concords

“That was the wrong woman,“ is the first thing Louis ever tells Harry Styles.

He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, of course. What a creepy thing to say to someone you’ve never met before. He’s basically admitting to having stalked Harry all night long. Of course, Louis did stalk him - only a little -  but he wasn’t exactly planning on telling Harry that.  Hell, Louis has been stalking - he really loathes calling it that but he still hasn’t found a better word for it -  Harry Styles ever since he appeared out of nowhere six months ago and took over the heart of everyone in the fashion industry. Louis has seen him on way too many runways and has stared at his dimples on one too many billboards to be completely innocent. He still expected to be smoother than this.

Louis was curious, that’s all. He wanted to see what the big fuss was about, wanted to have an idea as to what makes Harry Styles so damn special. He wanted to know why he can’t get that stupid face out his mind. 

 _He’s one of the most attractive humans on earth is what makes him special_ , a small part of his brain supplies and Louis quickly shuts it down. Louis has one rule, and one rule only, that he simply refuses to break. He forbids himself to be attracted to anyone he might work with. No wanking to models who might wear his clothes! It’s hardly fair, considering he spends 95% of his time working with the most attractive men on the planet, but his career is more important. Besides, in Louis’ experience, it always leads to disaster. Harry Styles makes respecting the rule really damn hard though and Louis is not quite sure why. Hell, he’s worked with hotter men before! Men more chiseled, with better cheekbones, or even prettier faces. But still. Harry Styles is something else entirely and after observing him all night, Louis can finally confirm to himself that there is no rationality to it. He’s tried to explain it to himself throughout the entire evening… Without success.  He’s just special. No other explanation required. No wonder he’s already a star. Louis has seen the pictures, he has looked at them obsessively. _In a normal way!_  he insists on thinking.  He’s seen him walk  the runway with that serious and sexy face on. It’s a pretty special thing. Harry Styles is an ethereal, graceful creature designed to make Louis’ life miserable.

In person, though, Harry is a completely different beast. One that Louis is not sure what to make of. He didn’t even noticed him at the party, at first, to be honest. Not until he heard a woman’s little gasp behind him and he turned around in time to see Styles’ guilty face and the woman’s stained shirt. Red wine on a white top. Lethal. _Ugh_ , Louis thought and then, once he realised Styles was there, he simply couldn’t stop watching. He watched him flop from people to people, going through the crowd with confidence, saying hellos there and giving cheek kisses here, accidentally elbowing ladies in the process.

Louis couldn’t really believe his eyes and tried in vain to reconnect the sexiest man he’s ever seen in a photoshoot _ever_ with the baby deer smiling and making his way through the sea of people, dancing awkwardly with long, blonde women and generally having a good time. _Maybe it’s a look alike_ , Louis remembers thinking because he simply cannot reconcile the two people as one. Harry Styles is the most graceful model Louis has ever seen in his entire life and he’s been fashion obsessed since he was ten. He knows what he’s talking about. No one, no one, has ever made him go _wow_ the way Harry Styles does, so what on earth is this?

Louis would never admit this to anyone, not even under the threat of a painful death, but the first time he saw Harry on a runway he mentally started designing clothes for him. Instantly. And he still hasn’t stopped. He probably has enough for an entire collection by now, all those ideas fuelled by the length of Harry’s legs and the green of his eyes. It’s embarrassing on many levels, and the reason why he absolutely refuses to put it on paper, but it’s there. Constantly. A stupid, stupid crush that Louis refuses to acknowledge, or consider important, honouring the rule with integrity. He managed to stay away for so long, avoiding parties he knew Styles would attend, leaving events early and the likes. Normal people would like to talk to their crush, Louis supposes, but he’s never been normal and the industry hasn’t been the kindest towards his romantic heart. So honouring the rule it is, despite how fucking pretty certain curly haired models are. _Straight curly haired models, probably,_ Louis thought when he saw Harry dance yet another dance with Cara Delevingne. _Good for them_ , he thought in good sport. Cara is awesome, a dear friend, and she deserves pretty boys in her life. It’s not like Louis has any chances anyway, so it might as well be someone he actually likes. Those are so rare these days.

So, he had meant to stay away. Really, he had. Staring awkwardly - and in awe - from a distance, thinking about how much more beautiful Harry Styles is up close, despite his clear lack of gracefulness. It’s endearing is the thing and Louis can manage himself when the object of his obsession is hot, he really can, but endearing? That’s just unfair. Still, he was being a champ, if he dares say so himself, staying away and keeping busy, until they both found themselves close to each other, too close for comfort, as Louis took another glass of champagne and Harry approached an older woman.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,“ Louis heard Harry say and he frowned because that couldn’t be right. “I’m the clumsiest, it’s shameful really. I should be banned from drinking wine,“ Harry continued self-deprecatingly.

The woman just shook her head before leaving, clearly as charmed with Harry as Louis is, when he had to intervene. He could have remained silent. He should have remained silent, really. But he couldn’t help thinking about the much younger woman and her stained blouse, so, of course, of course, he interfered and now Harry Styles is looking at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” Harry says, clearly confused and why is Louis even allowed to go to these parties? He just makes the clothes, he shouldn’t be left to mingle.

Louis just clears his throat, deciding on the spot that if he’s going to make a tit out of himself by not minding his own business, he might as well go all the way. “I said that was the wrong woman,” Louis repeats. “The one you spilled wine on was much younger,” he continues and yes, he actually does sound like a stalker.

Harry just laughs though and it’s all dimply and lovely, so Louis doesn’t really care if he’s being mocked. 

“No,” Harry replies and his cheeks start to blush a little. It’s very pretty. “That was the second glass,” he admits sheepishly and Louis has to snort at that.

“Wow,“ Louis just says before laughing. Harry Styles is even worse than he imagined. This is bad news for him.

“Yeah, as I said. Not the most graceful person ever,“ Harry simply says with a shrug, clearly unbothered by the whole thing.

“It’s a miracle they even let you on a runway. What with those skills...” Louis teases, unable to help himself.

Harry blushes a little harder at that, looks at the floor with a little smile before answering in a small voice. “That’s different,” he just replies and Louis doesn’t want to be even ruder so he doesn’t ask. 

“Well, that’s good,” he starts. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have a job.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry replies softly.

There’s a little moment of silence, a bit awkward, and Louis doesn’t want the exchange to end, not quite yet, screw the rule for a second.

“I’m Louis,“ he says quickly, offering his hand. 

Harry raises his eyebrows and stares at the hand incredulously before shaking it and Louis doesn’t, he does not, notice the size difference and how warm it makes him feel because that would be forbidden.

“Yeah,” Harry says slowly. “Louis Tomlinson, I know.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Louis actually forgets sometimes that he is kind of a big deal for these people. It never gets old though to be reminded like this. It’s always flattering and lovely to have people acknowledging his work.

“Right,” Louis fumbles a little, never quite sure how to react in those circumstances. “Louis Tomlinson. That’s me. And you’re Harry Styles. Hello. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet _you_ ,” Harry replies, unfazed, big hand still around Louis’. “I’m a huge fan.”

 _Oh_ , Louis thinks and his mind automatically goes to the collection he has most definitely not been thinking about for Harry.

“Wow. Cheers. Thanks mate,” Louis says clumsily. No wonder he’s been celibate for the past six months.

“You can’t be that surprised,” Harry says like it’s obvious. “I mean you’re… you. Everybody loves your designs. You’re crazy talented. Just wow. Your collection last fall?” Harry shakes his head.  “Amazing.”

Louis is blushing, he knows he is, but he can’t stop and that’s awkward, he needs to stop.

“Well, I mean… I guess.”

“No,” Harry says seriously. He almost looks insulted and that’s irritatingly charming, more so than usual. “You’re amazing. Not I guess. I mean… I would love to work with you. You’re…” Harry fumbles a little, gesticulating grandly, almost knocking out his glass for the third time. Louis reaches for it instinctively, putting a hand on Harry’s wrist, stopping the movement.

“Careful,” he simply says because he’s not sure he wants to acknowledge the fact that Harry wants to work with him. He’s not sure he could resist the temptation if he did.

“Oh,” Harry says sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Louis replies with a smile, still holding Harry’s wrist awkwardly. “Should be more careful in the future. I’m not as forgiving and easily charmed as those ladies. Especially not about clothes,” Louis continues, pointing to his shirt and blazer. They’re his designs, obviously, and he’d probably stab anyone merely breathing too close for comfort. Even Harry Styles’ dimples couldn’t save him. Probably. Maybe.

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t forgive myself either if I ruined something so pretty,” Harry admits and his low voice is doing things to Louis, making him all mushy and sappy inside.

 _He’s just talking about the clothes_ , he reminds himself dutifully. _He just means the clothes_.

But the thing is, Harry’s wearing this flirty, confident smile and still manages to look bashful and Louis knows, rationally, that that’s just how Harry Styles is. He’s heard all the stories about the flirting and the cheekiness. Everyone has. That’s just Harry’s temperament and it’s probably meaningless when directed at Louis, but he’s finding it very hard to remember when he gets looked at with this kind of intensity. It’s that sort of look, that heated, boyish, charming look that made Harry Styles who he is and made the world as dazed with him as Louis is. Not that Louis is dazed or obsessed or anything like that per say. He certainly wouldn’t go that far. Just slightly enamoured, maybe?

“Hey, let’s go outside!“Harry says suddenly, bright and excited.

“Why?“ Louis asks warily. Why would Harry Styles want to go anywhere with him?

“Why not?” Harry asks. “It’s cramped in here. We should go somewhere quiet…”

Louis frowns. “What about Cara?” he asks. “Seems a bit mean of you to drop her…” he adds quietly.

Harry shrugs, looking around the room. “She’s a big girl, pretty sure she found a way to entertain herself. Come on. It’ll be fun..."

He’s looking at Louis with those stupidly green, earnest eyes and Louis knows his rule, ok, he does, but who could resist? Louis has always found them beautiful on paper.  Whenever he’s walking around, getting lost in London and one of Harry’s ad comes up, it always takes his breath away. There are so many things to find beautiful about this man. His body really is a wonderland, yet there’s something about the softness in his gaze - even when he tries to look tough - that singles him apart from anyone else for Louis. It’s sweet like a day off spent in bed with his favourite sweater on and it scares Louis how much he likes it. It whispers to him that if he gets to know this man, this boy really, he’ll sink into him like he always does, losing himself in someone else and end up with a broken heart, once again. He’s had too many straight boys using him to further their career and stepping all over his feelings in the process. He swore it to himself: no more. Not that he thinks Harry would be the kind of person to do that. No. He looks too kind for it. Louis is pretty sure that when Harry breaks his heart it’ll be by accident, which makes it somehow worse. Still. He’s weak and he does want to know this boy, he wants to jump in and risk the drowning.

Louis sighs dramatically, like it’s a pain for him, before agreeing. He doesn’t want to seem overeager now, does he. “Fine,” he says. “Let’s go out clumsy boy.”

Harry grins at that. “Yay! Wait for me outside okay, there’s something I have to do.”

Louis follows the instruction quickly, not wanting to see Harry’s goodbyes and finds himself on the street corner, freezing, at one am. He waits four, five, seven minutes, before sighing loudly. What the hell is he even doing? He’s being silly, he knows he is. He’s humouring himself in the most twisted way and he should stop. Louis knows that he has to stop. He should leave, forget he ever spoke to Harry Styles and delete all those half finished mental drafts of his and go back to a normal life. Burying himself in his art to forget the loneliness and faking his way through various fashion related events, a big artificial smile on. This is a brilliant plan. He should really get onto it. He should leave, take a cab, or call a car, or walk, or something… Anything! But Louis is frozen on the spot and it’s not the temperature that has him so still. No. It’s Harry’s stupid face when he said “yay!“ that has Louis’ back pressed against the brick wall, eyes turned to his shoes. There’s a sudden noise to Louis’ left and he looks up to see Harry rubbing his elbow, a bottle of what looks like champagne in his hand, thankfully intact despite the clearly rough trip Harry subjected it to.

“Sorry, sorry,“ Harry says a little breathless when he reaches Louis. “Took me a little bit longer than expected to get this,“ he continues waving the bottle around.

Louis takes it off his hand promptly. “Harold,“ he says sternly. “You’re gonna make a mess if you keep going.“

Harry shrugs. “Oops?“ he says teasingly and Louis shakes his head at that. Damn that guy is cute. “Surprise Louis, I got you champagne!“ he keeps going like nothing happened and Louis has to control his facial muscles to refrain from smiling too hard.

“Right,” Louis replies. “Where did you find that?”

Harry smiles. “Grimmy’s kitchen?”

“He’s gonna be pissed,” Louis says. 

Harry shakes his head proudly.

“He has no idea you took it then?” Louis asks, amused.

“I was like a ninja,” Harry says solemnly. 

Louis bursts out laughing. How could he possibly take this boy seriously? With his easy smiles and windswept hair, stealing champagne at parties for people he doesn’t know. Everything about him is not what Louis expected. Harry is all soft and sweet where Louis thought there would be heavy flirting and overconfidence. It’s part of it, of course. Harry is not the kind of bloke not to feel sure of himself, that has been clear from the start, but Louis is still astonished by how down to earth and simple he’s presenting himself. Where’s the manwhore Louis has been hearing about left and right? Where is the sex god from the runway, fucking his way through the fashion industry, leaving a trail of spunk and ripped marriage certificates behind?

“So you stole it?” Louis finally says. “Is that why it took you so long?”

Harry opens his mouth to replies, closes it and looks left and right, clearly trying to come up with an adequate answer. He’s worrying his pretty little head a little too much for Louis’ taste and he’s about to interfere when Harry finally sighs and scoots a little closer to Louis, invading his personal space, looming over in what shouldn’t be an attractive way, but…

“I never said I was a quick ninja,” Harry whispers seriously and Louis giggles in his shoulder, feeling childish and obvious, but beyond caring now. It’s not like he intends all of this to go anywhere anyway. He remembers the rule, he really does, but he can hardly leave now. Not when a pretty boy brought him champagne in the middle of the night. 

“Well, ninja Styles,” Louis says seriously and he’s not flirting. He’s not. He’s not. “Where to now?”

Harry frowns. “Hum…”

“We have champagne. We’re outside.” Louis shrugs. “What next?” he asks, leaving the evening’s outcome into Harry’s hands. 

“Haven’t really thought this far to be honest…,” Harry admits sheepishly. “Didn’t really think you’d agree to come out in the cold like that.”

Louis doesn’t mean to laugh at everything Harry says, but it’s hard to when he’s so hilarious without knowing it. He’s not trying to make jokes, Louis can tell, but everything he ends up saying is just so damn charming.

“Well you better figure it out quickly ‘cause it is quite cold.”

Harry winces. 

“No pressure Curly…” Louis says sarcastically.

“Right… Yes…” Harry fumbles a bit, putting a nervous hand in his curls. He really does want to impress Louis that’s for sure. He must want to work with Louis really bad. It’s actually quite flattering, Louis figures. Harry Styles is in high demand, everyone wants a piece of him and apparently what Harry wants is a piece of Louis’ clothes. It’s not exactly what Louis wants, but it’ll do.

“Don’t worry,” Louis finally says softly. “Whatever we do can’t be worse than Grimshaw’s party.” 

Harry’ eyes widen at that and he looks shocked and a bit embarrassed. “You don’t like Nick’s parties?” he asks in a small voice and there’s a weird contrast between how low his voice actually is and the childishness of his tone.

Louis shrugs. “Meh,” he replies. 

It’s not that he dislikes them per say. They’re alright. There’s always good company and good food, which is a plus if you ask Louis. If there’s one thing Grimshaw always offers it’s a good time, but Louis just isn’t comfortable with the whole networking aspect of it. He likes knowing who’s just fishing for connections and who’s being genuine and the lines at those parties always blur.

Harry blushes a little. “Oh,” he says. “I like them,” he admits.

“You can go back if you want,” Louis replies quickly. The last thing he wants is to hold Harry back against his will. “I’m sure Cara’s still up there,” he can’t help adding because he’s heard the most recent rumours and he’s seen them pressed together earlier. He can’t unsee it, unfortunately.

“What? No?” Harry protests. “I don’t want to. 

“Oh, okay,” Louis replies. “You could if you like them so much. It’s fine.”

“Then you’d be by yourself. That would suck. Besides, I go to enough of these, right?” Harry says with a small smile and it’s not big enough for his dimples to appear. Louis really loves Harry’s dimples.

“I suppose you do. If any of those magazines are true. 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “So you read those magazines,” he says. “Interesting.”

Louis purses his lips and shrugs. “I like to maintain a healthy dosage of gossip in my life. Need to know what to expect from my peeps.” Louis grimaces as soon as it's out of his mouth. He can’t believe he just said that. Peeps? He sounds like the world’s biggest dickhead. “I don’t know why I said that,” Louis adds quickly. “That was awful.”

Harry giggles.

“Stop it,” Louis warns. “I have never said that before in my life. And never will again.”

Harry just keeps laughing at Louis’ mimics and he would love to be able to tell himself that it doesn’t affect him in any way, that his heart doesn’t beat faster, his breathing doesn’t speed up and that there are no butterflies in his stomach at the sight of Harry laughing at one of his theatrics… But that would be a lie.

“So, where to then?” Louis asks to change the subject.

“There’s a park a couple of blocks away?” Harry offers a few seconds later when he finally managed to calm down.

“Works for me,” Louis agrees. _A park? Seriously,_ Louis thinks. _What sort of professional wooing is that even?_

 

*

 

The park is a little further than they expected and they end up walking for twenty minutes, listening to the directions on Harry’s phone.

“So, maybe not a couple of blocks,” Harry says sheepishly when they finally reach it.

Louis shrugs, unbothered. He would probably have complained had this been anyone else, but he’s having fun, surprisingly. He can let it go. “It’s okay.”

Harry nods, satisfied by Louis’ answer and immediately sits in the grass.

“You’re gonna ruin your clothes,” Louis automatically says, a little bit outraged.

“So?” Harry shrugs. “It’s not the end of the world.”

It kind of is, but Louis doesn’t want to argue it. “Well I’m certainly not sitting down there,” he protests vehemently.

Harry laughs at him. “Okay,” he says in a funny tone that Louis can’t quite understand. “You can always sit on my lap if you want,” he offers cheekily.

Louis can feel himself blush, feel the heat spreading through his entire body and he’s thankful for the dark because how embarrassing would it be if Harry noticed. He simply snorts unattractively and sits down gracefully. He starts working on the champagne bottle and realizes quickly they’re going to need something to open it.

“So, we can’t drink this?” he says disappointedly. Alcohol would be good about now. He’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with the sparkle in Harry’s eyes. (And there is actually sparkle in his eyes, what is he? A Disney prince?) 

“Oh,” Harry says quickly and starts to go through his coat’s pocket. He takes some rubbish out of them -  his phone, money, a banana and what looks like a concert ticket - before grabbing a bottle opener and giving it to Louis. He takes it uncertainly.

“That Grimmy’s as well?” Louis asks as he struggles with the bottle.

Harry shrugs. “You can’t prove anything.”

Louis laughs a little and wonders how often Harry steals stuff like this, wonders if he is the kind of annoying guy who takes things from photoshoot like they’re his or if he borrows books from friends and never gives them back. He’d like to know.

“I’ll give it back later,” he adds and Louis is not so sure about that, but the intention is sweet nonetheless.

“An honest thief…” Louis replies. “That’s cute.”

“I didn’t steal it!” Harry protests just as Louis manages to get the bottle opened. The “pop” of the cork surprises Harry who jumps a little, wide-eyed and adorably flustered in the dark. Louis laughs a little and licks some of the champagne that spill on his hand.

“Champagne?” he offers Harry.

“Yeah. Scared me to death…” Harry mumbles, hands grabbing the bottle and talking a huge gulp.

Louis hums thoughtfully. “To be fair, we probably scared the whole neighbourhood off. There’s a little old lady in one of those flats who’s convinced someone just got murdered.”

Harry splutters as he tries to laugh and keep drinking at the same time. He starts coughing, clearly struggling with keeping his drink down.

“Oh, no,” Louis deadpans. “Please don’t die and let this old lady be right Harold.”

Harry squeaks and hides his mouth behind a huge paw. He shakes his head before giving Louis the bottle back and maybe Louis takes a bigger gulp then he should, but he’s out of his depth here. Harry Styles was supposed to be a forbidden fantasy, the man in the pictures he could never have and would never know beyond a few words at events and maybe a couple of shoots or shows. This is fucking up his entire plan and he feels like a robot whose software has a bug. _Red alert. System malfunction. Abort mission._

“I miss home,” Harry says as he lays down on the grass and no. Louis refuses to let this happen.

“You wanna head back?” Louis replies charmed beyond his control and he _hateshateshates_ it. This isn’t a movie or a cute novel. What the hell does Harry think he’s doing? What kind of straight, unavailable guy is he even?

Harry laughs softly. “Nah. I meant Holmes Chapel...my mum’s place. Haven’t been in a while.”

“Oh,” Louis simply replies because he gets that. He misses home all the time. He wishes he had the time - wishes he took the time - to visit more than he does. Main holidays and birthdays aside - when he can, only when he can - he doesn’t see his mum and the girls as much as he wants.

“Everything’s been so busy, you know?” Harry says, looking up at Louis and he remembers suddenly that Harry is quite a few years younger than him, that this is quite new to him. This whole life, this scary world...

“Yeah, I get that,” Louis says. He takes another huge gulp, remembering what he was like at twenty-two, twenty-three, fresh-faced and naive, thinking he could do and could be anything.

“Does it slow down?” Harry eventually asks and maybe this is what this is about.

Maybe Harry isn’t trying to use him or get a job, maybe Harry just wants advice. That wouldn’t so bad. Louis could be a platonic mentor figure in Harry’s life. Louis could do that. His lust will die down eventually anyway, it always does when he’s willing enough, and he could do the world good by taking a youngling under his wings. _That could work_ , he can’t help but think.

“Hopefully not Curly,” Louis says in his kindest voice, ruffling Harry’s hair without thinking too much about it. If he does, he’s going to be sick. “Things being crazy means they’re going well.”

Harry bites his lips and nods. He raises his arms towards Louis, taking the bottle and drinking from it for a while. “I guess it is good. Could be worse.”

“Pretty sure there’s a lot of unemployed models right now who would agree…” Louis replies because he knows how hard this is, has seen many of his friends struggle and fail.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Harry replies quickly, insistingly. “I know. I just…” He hesitates. “It’s a bit hard to wrap my head around you know?”

Louis nods because he does, of course, he does. He can’t even imagine what life must be for Harry right now. Six months ago, he was a nobody and now… Now everyone wants a piece of him, always, constantly. He probably doesn’t know who to trust or who to turn to. Hell, Louis doesn’t know who to trust and who to turn to half of the time and he’s been in the industry much longer and doesn’t have the level of scrutiny Harry suffers from.

“I imagine so,” Louis simply says, unsure how to tell Harry that he gets it, _he really gets it_.

“Bam, you know?” Harry says cutely. “Out of nowhere.” He shrugs and scrunches his face. “I’m grateful, of course. But…”

“Not what you wanted?” Louis offers, hoping for more details.

“No, of course. I mean. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Since you were a curly baby?” Louis teases and Harry laughs and shakes his head.

“Wasn’t even curly as a child…” he mumbles.

“No?!” Louis gasps dramatically. “My whole life is a lie.”

“I know, I’m an impostor,” Harry smirks, looking at Louis from the corner of his eyes, before becoming serious again. “It’s just weird and it goes so fast… like… I wished it’d stop a little. Like, I don’t want to stop, but…”

“The world’s spinning, yeah?”

Harry looks up and smiles softly at Louis. “Yeah,” he says. “It’d be nice to stand still for a while, you know?”

 

*

 

“He’s the most beautiful man on Earth Zayn,” Louis whines into the cushion a few days later.

“Thanks,” Zayn huffs and Louis can’t help but think that he needs better friends, more specifically friends who aren’t vain models.

Sometimes Louis thinks he chose the wrong industry. He loves designing, can’t really stop actually. He always has ideas, always thinks of ways to improve every single piece of clothing he sees, always wants to make something that screams his name.  It’s a compulsion really. He’s had it ever since he was a child. He used to argue with his mum to pick his own outfits and eventually ended up dressing carefully his own sisters before school, using them as his models whenever he could. Louis worked his arse off to get here and he certainly would never give it up for anything. But it’s hard as well. The competition is tough and the company even tougher. Louis loves Zayn, okay? He would probably, maybe, die for Zayn, but being constantly surrounded by people obsessed with physical appearance does take its toll on a bloke. Especially one like Louis who can’t cook for shit and depends strictly on take out for survival. Especially one who loathes physical activity as much as he does, apart from the exceptional football kicking once in a while. (Louis is not a cliche one hundred percent, thank you.) He knows, objectively, that he’s an attractive guy despite his flaws, but it’s hard to remember when most of the people he knows’ beauty is unreal.

“Oh come on,” Louis argues, finally coming out of the pillow where he was successfully attempting to asphyxiate himself. “You know that you’re like the objectively most attractive person on the planet, regardless of like, gender, and sexuality, and shit. Your cheekbones actually infuriate me. I wake up in the middle of the night to get angry about how fucking attractive you are Zayn.” Louis shakes his head angrily for a few seconds because seriously? Zayn’s face is just unfair. “I just meant for me,” he finally adds. “ Harry is the most beautiful man on Earth to me. So can you stop complaining so we can focus on me and this problem for a second?” Louis says passionately.

“Aren’t we always focusing on you, though?” Zayn asks, completely ignoring all of the beautiful, beautiful compliments Louis just gave him. Ungrateful friends, really. He deserves better.

“Are you quite finished?” Louis asks irritated. This is important. They need to discuss, and more importantly, fix this.

Zayn just laughs and shakes his head clearly discouraged. _Whatever_ , Louis thinks, Zayn doesn’t know anything.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal?” Zayn simply says and Louis can’t believe it. This is obviously a massive catastrophe and if Zayn was a real human being with feelings and stuff - which his unearthly beauty clearly indicates he is not - then he would react accordingly.

“Really?” Louis finally asks.

Zayn just keeps looking at him, completely unimpressed and it’s quite unnerving. Louis wants compassion, is that so wrong? Why isn’t Zayn pinning with him?

“Yeah. You like the guy.  So what?” Zayn argues.

“So what?” Louis asks, offended. “So what? Do you remember the last time I liked a guy in the fashion industry?”

Zayn winces. “Right,” he says hesitantly. “That was different, though, he was a complete dick. Harry’s not like that.”

“Harry is not interested.”

“You don’t know that. You said so yourself, you guys had a lot of fun,” Zayn keeps arguing and Louis really doesn’t know why he even keeps him around at this point.

“As friends,” Louis sighs. “Pff. Not even that. As acquaintances at best. Besides, he told me he wanted to work with me so it’s probably a ploy to get me to pick him for fashion week or something. A networking, midnight, park venture thing.” 

“That sounds normal." Zayn pauses emphatically. "And as I said before, Harry’s not like that,” Zayn protests again and Louis sits up quickly on the sofa.

“Wait, you know him?” He says frantically.

Zayn sighs. “Well… We’re not close friends or anything, but we’ve seen each other at shootings and open calls and stuff. You’re bound to run into people eventually,” Zayn explains. “I’m quite surprised you haven’t met him before, he’d fit your style really well…”

Louis’ eyes widen because of course Harry fits his style really well, he’s been trying his hardest to stop himself from designing exclusively for him for months now. It was bound to bleed through. Zayn looks at him suspiciously.

“Louis…” he says slowly.

“What?” Louis asks innocently.

“Have you been avoiding him?” Zayn asks.

Louis shrugs. “Define avoid?”

Zayn frowns, trying to come up with an answer when suddenly his mouth opens in shock. He starts shaking his head, all of it happening almost in slow-motion in Louis’ mind.

“No, no, no. You haven’t?!” Zayn says. “Tell me you haven’t.”

“I haven’t what?” Louis asks irritated. “So, I’ve been avoiding him a little, it’s not that big of a deal. You know my rule. I knew I’d like him so I figured avoiding temptation was the best plan. Nothing wrong with that. 

Louis likes to think he’s making a solid argument, but Zayn is looking distraught, mouth still opened and his head hasn’t stopped its slow movement.

“You’ve been designing for him.”

“No,” Louis says too quickly.

“You’ve been designing with him in mind. It’s what you always do when you have a crush. ” Zayn continues.

“I have not,” Louis says firmly, pointing an accusing finger towards Zayn’s pretty face. “Trust me,” he continues firmly, trying to avoid his friend’s gaze. “ When I start designing for him, you’ll notice ‘cause it’ll be amazing.”

Zayn smiles triumphantly and Louis adds immediately. “Not that I’ve thought about it!”

“You are smitten Louis,” Zayn declares and it’s annoying, but it’s also true and can Zayn start being compassionate now that he fully understands?

Louis just fall into the sofa with a whimper, forehead against the armrest, feeling like the world’s most pathetic inhabitant. “It’s horrible Zayn. Horrible. 

Zayn just laughs brightly. He’s traitor is what he is. This is Louis’ biggest catastrophe to date. Bigger than that time in Milan where one of his dresses ripped and he had to sew it back on the model with two minutes left to spare. This is worse than the time at university when he had, quite naively, asked a couple of guys from the football team to model a few designs for the end of the term fashion show and they had showed up still half drunk, smelling of weed and McDonalds. This is Louis’ every nightmare come to life. This is the worse day of his life times a thousand. And Zayn just laughs.

“Ah yes. Mock my misery, Malik. Mock us mere mortals,” Louis says dramatically because what else is there left to say at this point? He has a hopeless, hopeless crush on a boy he can never have and there’s nothing he can do about it. If only Harry had been a jerk to him at the party. Then at least, Louis could have forgotten all about this silly crush business.

“Sorry, sorry,” Zayn says, still smiling. “You haven’t had a crush in months… It’s exciting.”

“What are you twelve?” Louis complains. Better friends. It’s the first thing on his to-do list. Well second, after forgetting that Harry Styles is an actual human being that exists.

“No honey, just not an ice queen,” Zayn rolls his eyes at the last world and there’s only a little truth to it so Louis is mostly okay with the remark and will exceptionally let it pass.

“He stole champagne at Grimshaw’s party and took me to a park at like 2 am and then he told me about his insecurities and stories of his childhood! What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Zayn laughs again, head hidden in his hands and it’s a bit embarrassing to be mocked so openly. Louis knows he deserves it of course. His crush is absolutely appalling. It was terrible before when he was silently admiring Harry from afar ( _like a creep_ , he mentally adds), but now that they’ve met? It just reached the uncontrollable level of shame. He _should_ be mocked. No matter how unpleasant it is.

“I mean, it’s like he fell out of a stupid indie rom-com, it’s not fair.“

The comment only fuels Zayn’s hilarity and Louis is pretty sure he can hear him snort while laughing. Zayn never snorts while he laughs because he’s beautiful and perfect like Harry and all their model friends. That’s what Louis’ pathetic ramblings have done to Zayn Malik. They’ve led him to unattractive laughter.

Zayn finally manages to stop giggling long enough to face Louis again, but his face is still split into a painful smile and his eyes have disappeared into two tiny lines of happiness.

“It’s so true, though," Zayn says in a high pitched voice, clearly still one hundred percent amused. “The last time I saw him he spent half an hour telling me about his cat Dusty that lives at his mom’s place because his landlord in London doesn’t allow pets..."

Louis just whines at that because it’s so cute. Last week, Louis’ biggest complaint would have been that Harry Styles was too hot. Now he's adorable as well and somehow, this new development is way worse.

“Fuck that’s cute," Louis simply mutters.

“Yay, he’s a pretty cool dude,“ Zayn nods seriously. “Which is why I don’t understand why it’s the end of the world that you fancy him like crazy."

“It just is," Louis argues sadly. There’s no point trying to explain this to _Zayn,_ who’s been with his stable pop star girlfriend since he was 19 years old and actually started talking about proposing recently. It’s not fair. Louis wants someone to propose to too. But things never seem to work out that way for him and it’s certainly not someone like Zayn who would understand.

“Come on," Zayn says, joining Louis on his couch, wrapping a comforting arm around his waist and yeah, that’s why he still keeps him around. “Just because things went badly with a few dickheads doesn’t mean they’ll always go badly. You’re too young to have given up on love already."

Louis snorts because that’s completely ridiculous. He hasn’t given up on love. As if. “I haven’t given up on love Malik, don’t be stupid."

“So what’s the deal then? With all the whining and complaining like it’s the end of the world?“ Zayn asks, still pressed against Louis.

Louis shrugs in response, unwilling to answer and Zayn pinches him. Louis yelps. 

“Not fair!"

“Louis..."

“I said no more models," Louis mumbles. “And I meant it okay."

“Not all models are arseholes, you know that."

“Name one," Louis argues stubbornly because he’s allowed to be weary damn it.

“Me," Zayn replies.

“You don’t count," Louis argues because he does not. 

Zayn just sighs, like Louis is the most difficult person he has even known and maybe there is a bit of truth to that, but Louis likes to think that he keeps his friend young. And entertained. He's valuable and so are his crisis. 

“No, look. It sucks okay. Having a thing with someone you work with-"

“You don’t work with Harry."

Louis gives him a nasty look. “Or someone you could work with. It’s never a good plan. Especially not in an industry where everybody is entangled with everybody and half of the world is watching and whispering. I said no more models and I meant it. So yeah, it sucks that I think Harry’s great. I’m allowed to be upset." 

Louis hates how his voice is a bit wobbly, betraying how truly affected he is by all of this, but Zayn doesn’t say anything. He just holds Louis a little tighter and kisses his cheek. Louis tries to fight it, pushing Zayn’s face away, but he just ends up with saliva dripping all over his cheek as Zayn fights back by licking him.

“Gross," he complains, rubbing his cheek against Zayn’s arm.

“You’re fault," Zayn simply replies as he shrugs, miraculously unbothered by Louis' behaviour. “Hey", he says seriously. “You know you’re gonna be okay, right? I mean. You’re awesome and you’re gonna be the happiest guy ever… No matter who with..."

“Yeah, whatever."

“Shut up, you wanker. I’m being sincere."

“Yeah..." Louis says teasingly. “In the future don’t."

“What?" Zayn replies, clearly insulted. 

Louis does like when things get serious and he gets to have his friends telling him such lovely stuff. Not that he would ever admit to it. 

“No sappy shit, Malik," Louis says seriously.

“Jerk.“

 

*

 

After that unfortunate - or fortunate depending on how you see things - evening with Harry, it seems as if Louis can’t escape him anymore. If he thought Harry was everywhere before he clearly had it wrong, because now Harry is all over the place. He’s at all the parties Louis attends, at all of the shows Louis goes to, even at Louis’ favourite restaurants. It’s completely insane and unfair. Especially considering that now that they’ve met, Harry goes out of his way to say hello to him whenever he gets the chance. One night, he actually drops his group of insanely gorgeous friend with whom he’s having an enthusiastic dinner - if the laughter he can hear coming from their table is to be trusted - to join Louis at the cashier where he’s busy paying for the take out he’s going to eat alone in front of old episodes of project runway.

“Lou! Lou!“ Harry screams throughout the restaurant, enthusiastically waving at him, and on anyone else the habit would be annoying and the customers disgruntled, but not Harry Styles. People just look at him with stars in their eyes as he joins Louis.

“Hey,“ Louis replies when Harry finally reaches him.

“Hi,“ Harry says, grinning. “Seems we can’t stop running into each other.“

“I know,“ Louis replies. “I’m gonna start thinking you’re stalking me,“ Louis teases even though he’s the guilty one.

Harry laughs brightly, though, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and Louis’ stomach is fluttering a bit. He would say he has butterflies if he allowed himself to have a crush, but since he’s not, Louis chooses to blame it on hunger.

“What can I say,“ Harry says with a charming shrug. “You’re delightful, I can’t stay away.“ 

Louis rolls his eyes at that, unwilling to fall for such a stupid line, not matter how nice it is.

“We should hang out,“ Harry continues. “Make it planned, so I don’t have to stalk you anymore.“

Louis’ heart is beating loudly and his palm start sweating. His body is a traitor and Louis can’t help but pray for his food to arrive now before he does something stupid like saying yes. He shrugs, trying to buy himself some time.

“It’d be fun,“ Harry adds insistently. “We could have lunch or -“

“Maybe,“ Louis interrupts before Harry gets creative and start inviting him to the zoo or something equally quirky. That’s the kind of friendly activities his little group probably gets up to, Louis thinks, giving said group a nasty look without meaning to. Cara is there. _Obviously._

“It’d be really fun,” Harry says brightly. “Or I could cook for you,” he offers. “I’m really good.”

Louis wants to die. He actually wants to die because there is no way this beautiful boy is actually kind and also knows how to cook. That would just be unfair.

“Sure,” Louis replies, way too in shock to even think about refusing. Even though it would probably be a lot better for his health.

There’s a cough to Louis’ left and he realizes his food has already arrived, probably arrived a while ago, and he was too busy staring at Harry to notice. He’s wearing a low cut white t-shirt and Louis can see two inked wings peeking from the edge, delicately decorating Harry’s body, a nice contrast from the mismatched doodles of Harry’s left arms. All of his tattoos seem lovely, although a bit stupid in some cases. At least from afar. Louis isn’t against the idea of inspecting them a little closer, but he’s not sure he’s allowed, especially not with Harry’s girlfriend in the room. His legs are wrapped in blue jeans, a new change from his traditional black - not that Louis noticed - and the whole outfit is completed by some weird headscarf resting on Harry’s curls. He’s breathtaking, as usual.

“Right,” Louis says to the waiter. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, you’re going?” Harry asks. “You should come with us,” he says earnestly, pointing back to his table and the people peering curiously at them from it.

“Oh, no,” Louis quickly replies. There is very little he would want less than sitting for a meal with Harry and Cara while they’re all loved up and having fun with their friends. Maybe World War III, but that’s probably it. “I wouldn't want to bother you guys.”

“What?” Harry asks and he honestly looks like he doesn’t understand where Louis is coming from. “Don’t be stupid. Of course, you wouldn’t. Cara was complaining the other day that she hasn’t seen you in ages.”

The words twist uncomfortably in Louis’ chest. He hasn't been avoiding her. Not really. Besides, it’s not like they were super close friends before. To be honest, Louis didn’t expect her to notice. It’s just… They’re being photographed together more and more these days, which is fine of course. They’re dating. It’s to be expected. They’ve always been quite close anyway, but it didn’t use to bother Louis this much. Before, Louis hadn’t met Harry. He lusted after him, of course, but things are different now. They’ve only spent a few moments together, meeting fleetingly at events, but Louis feels like he knows Harry now and not Harry Styles. He’s heard the way he slurs his words even worse than usual when he gets drunk and he’s seen his eyes go unfocused, his body clumsier and clumsier as the champagne bottled emptied. He’s heard how his voice always sounds like a whisper, even when he speaks out loud, like everything Harry has to say is a secret he’s sharing with the world. He only wanted to put his tongue all over Harry before. Now, he thinks he might want to do something stupid like hold his hand or listen to his heartbeat or let Harry be the little spoon even if he’s a giant. It’s silly, Louis knows. They barely know each other and Harry is not actually available. They're just stupid fantasies. Still, Louis is not sure he could look Cara in the eyes after having thoughts like these.

Louis sighs. Harry looks so hopeful and Louis hateshateshates that he’s gonna disappoint him, but he can’t. He just can’t.

“Sorry Curly,” Louis says and before he’s even aware of what he’s doing, he’s tugging on one of the free curls near Harry’s right ear. “I’m knackered. I’d be really poor company.” 

Harry pouts a little at that. “Okay,” he replies simply. “Well, take care then.”

“Yeah, you too,” Louis whispers as he watches Harry get back to his table, sitting immediately next to the pretty blonde.

They start talking and Cara looks back at Louis with a frown. Feeling even more awkward than before, Louis simply waves at her before grabbing his bag and leaving quickly. He wonders for a second what they were talking about, if they’ve figured his crush out…

They were probably laughing at his ridiculous obsession, mocking the way he couldn’t even spend an entire conversation without touching Harry. A boy he’s little seen maybe five or six times in his entire life. Wow. _Life really sucks_ , Louis thinks as he gets back to his flat.

 

*

 

The next time they meet, Louis is shopping at Tesco and he is so done with all of it.

“Louis!” he hears from behind him as he goes through the frozen meals section, debating whether to go safe with pasta or risk a meal with meat.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he not so quietly whispers as he turns around and he immediately regrets it when he sees Harry’s face falls from a few paces behind.

“Oh,” Harry says, his steps faltering.

“No, I don’t… Damnit,” Louis mutters and Harry is still frozen in the aisle. He starts walking towards him, trying to come up with a good excuse for his rudeness.

“Hey,” Louis finally settles for.

“Hi,” Harry mumbles.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Stop that,” he says brusquely. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way…”

“Oh,” Harry simply says and Louis really needs him to smile or some shit.

“Long day, you know?” Louis says with a smile of his own. He is happy to see Harry. Sort of.

Harry smiles sympathetically. “Yeah, I get that.” He bites his lips shyly. “What are you up to? 

“Shopping,” Louis says waving his basket around and Harry frowns at it 

“Red bull, tea and frozen pizzas?” Harry asks.

“I’m not done,” Louis replies quickly. He’s not sure why he needs to defend himself suddenly, but he really doesn’t want Harry to see him as some sort of collegial loser. He’s not. Not entirely at least. He’s a very successful designer. It’s no wonder he doesn’t have time to cook. Or to learn. It’s to be expected even.

“Okay,” Harry replies simply.

“Stop judging me,” Louis says sharply. 

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Louis protests because Harry has no poker face and it’s written all over those stupid dimples of his. God, Louis loves the dimples. He wants to press his thumb into one and rub Harry’s skin or maybe lick into it.

“Maybe a little,” Harry admits. “How old are you again?”

Louis gasps surprised Harry even has it in him. “Twenty-four,” he lies. 

Harry just snorts. “Right,” he says. “You wish.”

“Rude much, Styles,” Louis complains.

Harry grins, bites his lips and Louis has to literally pinch his thigh to stop himself from freaking out. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. Harry is not his to want. Harry is not available. Harry is probably using him kindly. Louis is not allowed to forget it.

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one,” Harry says charmingly and it’s not true. Louis looks, and feels, very much twenty-six years old. _Almost twenty-seven_ , a small voice as cold as the middle of December whispers in Louis’ mind.

Louis doesn’t like thinking about his birthday. It’s so depressing to him. The thought of growing older, once again. Another lonely year of his life achieved. The worst, Louis thinks, is that he’s been quite successful these past few years. He’s built himself a great career. His name means something. But it’s not enough. And it’s still not what he wants. Some of his friends have been married for years now. Even Zayn is planning to propose at Christmas.  (Way to ruin his good friend Louis’ birthday!) A few mates from back home have babies now. Actual babies that can walk and talk and stuff. Louis is pretty sure Facebook told him that one of them started primary school this year. Louis can’t wait for it to be his turn and the older he gets, the less likely it seems he’ll get a chance. 

“You’re on a whole new level of charming,” Louis says softly. 

Harry beams. “It’s easy when it’s you,” he teases with a wink and Louis can feel his cheeks heating, probably making him look like a deranged tomato now.

“You think you’re so great… Can flirt your way in the industry….” Louis complains mockingly. 

Harry shrugs. “Not really,” he says, but Louis knows better. Constant vigilance, just like Moody Mad-Eye - and his ex Aiden - taught him.

It gets kind of awkward then and Louis doesn’t really want to leave, but he’s not sure what to say anymore. He hates when that happens, always get angsty and start talking shit, being loud and obnoxious. He doesn’t want to get like that in front of Harry, doesn’t want to scare him off. Even though he knows nothing can ever happen between them. (It’s forbidden. Louis declared it and he’s not going back on his promise. Never.)

“Wow that got awkward,” Harry says sheepishly. Louis can't stop the laugh bubbling out of his mouth and it’s not awkward anymore.

Louis likes that. He likes how honest Harry is, unafraid to be branded a fool. He says what he means and means what he says. It’s quite refreshing if Louis’ honest, and even though a part of him is still a little weary, a little suspicious, he mostly thinks Harry is for real. 

“Still up for lunch sometimes?” Harry asks, hopeful.

Louis opens his mouth, closes it, then shrugs.

“Looks like you’re gonna need it,” Harry replies, pointing his basket and he’s not entirely wrong.

“Sure,” Louis says. “Why not?” He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

Harry grins and quickly reaches into his pocket to get his iPhone out.

“Might end up giving you a job if you keep harassing me like that,” Louis jokes before he can stop himself.

He knows he’s being way too obvious, letting his insecurities control him, but he can’t help himself. He wants to test Harry, see if he’ll let anything slip if Louis asks or hints enough. But he doesn’t, of course. He just looks at Louis at funny, half between a frown and a pout. 

“You should give me your number,” Harry says instead of commenting.

Louis needs to find better ways to deal with his fears rather than trying to throw shade at half-strangers. It’s way too weird and not even nearly as efficient as he wishes. 

“So we can get lunch,” Harry adds unnecessarily and Louis notices his basket is almost only filled with fresh fruits.

Louis is the first one to give shit to any and all model he knows about their crazy healthy eating habits. On Harry, though, it’s kind of cute and while Louis knows it merely reflects on his own uncontrollable feelings, he can’t help but really like it. Indie rom-com character, seriously.

Louis receives a text fifteen minutes later when they’ve both paid, said goodbyes, and gone their separate ways. There was a hug with back rubbing and cheek kissing, but Louis is actively not thinking about it. (Harry Styles is one damned affectionate bastard and it’s not fair.)

 _Hi :D_ it simply reads and Louis smiles fondly at his phone.

 _It’s Harry_ , a second text appears a few seconds later. Louis rolls his eyes. _As opposed to the ten other people to whom I’ve given my phone number to in the past half hour_ , Louis thinks.

His phone chimes again and Louis can’t help his little laughter because Harry really is endearing. Not matter how much Louis doesn’t want him to be.

 _Styles!!_ the third text says.

 

*

 

Louis doesn’t mean to start working on _Harry’s collection_ as he likes to call it in his mind - italics included and everything - but it sort of gets away from him a little. He’s supposed to be working on a dress for the Oscars for a very prestigious, very important client. They’re quite a few weeks away still, but Louis likes to be prepared. He can’t see it, though. Every single one of his ideas is horrible, either annoyingly and stupidly daring or overdone or just too simple… He can’t quite seem to get into it, is the thing. Worse so, Harry’s face, Harry’s bodies, Harry’s… everything won’t leave his mind.

He's creatively blocked. How idiotic is that? Louis sighs. He is a firm believer that creativity and inspiration are not things that come to people with divine intervention. Artists don't sit around all day waiting for inspiration to magically come to them! They work at it and they work at it really hard. Louis has always prided himself for that particular belief and personal policy. He's worked damn hard in his life and he still does. Every day. Which is why he _hates_ how pointless all that work seems to be right now.  No matter how many hours he's poured in this stupid dress,  _nothing_ is working. Worse even, his head is filled with ideas. Pointless, unusable ideas. 

It’s so stupid and frustrating. Louis almost wants to tear his own hair out. He had been so excited about this project when he originally got it. He’s designed some fabulous dresses for various important events and some of his best work has been shown that way. But nothing quite as huge and exciting as the Oscars. It hardly gets bigger than this. Certainly a lifelong dream for Louis, but now that he’s here...He can’t do it. And why? Because of a boy? It’s disgusting. Louis actually wants to maybe hit himself in the balls as punishment. He’s been known to get boy obsessed in his life, that’s true. Not that he’s particularly proud of it, but it would be pointless of him to deny it. Besides, he's not ashamed per say. Still, it’s never quite reached this level of insanity. He’s never let it influence his actual work before. All of those hours he spent slaving away at his sewing machine. All those times he got cramps in his hands from drawing all night because he knew the right design, the right idea, was just around the corner. And now, it’s one of the biggest, one of the greatest opportunity of his career and he is choking for a pair of pretty green eyes? Pathetic.

Louis actually hates himself a little. 

He only meant to take a short break. Something brief, to get the other man out of his head. He just picked up a brand new sheet of paper and started a couple of sketches. He figured he would give himself fifteen minutes, no more. Just to get his ideas out there -  out of his brain, out of sight - and be able to finally work in peace afterwards.

Sixteen hours later, Louis has barely slept or moved and he is surrounded by drawings and even a few patterns. He’s not sure how he got here really, but he thinks it all started because Harry is stupidly taller than him - Louis would have to get on his tiptoes to kiss him. Or Harry would bend down. Yeah, he’d probably bend down -  and his legs won’t end and Louis really wanted to design some trousers for him, just so he could stop fantasizing about all that kissing. It hasn’t really worked out in his favour. 

And the worse thing is that it’s good. It’s really good and he’s pretty sure Harry would love it, would want to wear it. But Louis can never show him and that sucks. If Louis showed Harry, he's pretty sure that his affection would be written all over his stupid face, for the entire world to see and while Louis is not entirely opposed to being vulnerable in front of Harry, the thought of putting himself out there for everybody else is terrifying.  He can hardly think of a more humiliating thing really. 

 

*

 

Louis arrives at a photoshoot the next week and almost has a heart attack when he notices Cara is there. He’d forgotten. He had completely forgotten that she was one of three models he’s working with this morning and that’s a big no really. He’s supposed to get lunch with Harry the next day. She probably knows about it! How is he supposed to act like his feelings are platonic when she’s right there? There’s no way he can manage that.

People often tell him how good of an actor he is, how he can make anyone believe anything. He was always involved in drama as a kid, ventured on stage before discovering that costumes were his one true love. But no matter how many times he gets told that it's a talent he possesses, that his malleable face can make anyone believe anything, Louis disagrees. He knows the signs that betray him, he knows what to look for. Rationally, he’s pretty sure that Cara doesn’t know him as well as he knows himself, as well as people like Zayn and his mum know him. She probably won’t be able to tell how Harry makes his heart flutters and how much he’s waiting impatiently for their lunch date. Lunch! Lunch! Not a date. It’s not a date, it’s just lunch. Louis has been repeating it mentally a lot. He has to remember to be careful. It’s easy to fall for Harry Styles’ charm. Cara would know more than anyone. A part of him thinks briefly that maybe telling her wouldn’t be so bad… They could have a laugh about it. Good old Louis, falling for the straight guy again! What a joke!

But he’s not sure he wants to risk it. He’s actually debating when she spots him. She smiles widely and Louis realizes in that instant that he really doesn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Lou!“ she yells across the room, waving him over, making her make-up artist frown.

Louis shakes his head, slightly discouraged by her enthusiasm.

“Hey, how are you?“ he says when he finally gets to her. He tried to delay it as long as he could, said hello to everyone before her, but he can’t really ignore her for much longer. Louis is infatuated with her boyfriend, but he’s not mean. Besides this Harry thing of his will blow over. He knows it will. It has to. Sure, he’s been lusting for months, but now that he knows him and how nice and cute and wonderful he is, Louis is pretty sure it’s gonna get better and his feelings - oh how he hates calling them that - will decrease. They’ll have to. Nobody likes people with cute flaws like talking too slow or being clumsy or flirting with everything that moves or always wanting to get their ways. Nobody. 

“I’m good,“ Cara replies with a huge smile and Louis really feels awful. “Feels like we haven’t spoken in ages,“ she adds with a pout.

“Yeah, sorry,“ Louis says guiltily. “Been crazy busy you know,“ he replies with an apologetic shrug.

“Yeah?“ Cara asks. “What are you working on? Anything I could model?“ she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and Louis is once again reminded of why he likes her so much. She’s all carefree and smiles, never takes herself too seriously and that’s so refreshing. 

A collection inspired by the width of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the inappropriate length of his legs isn’t an answer he can offer, though, so he simply shrugs with a mysterious smile.

“Maybe,“ he sing-songs and it’s complete fabrication, of course, but he couldn’t possibly tell the truth. He just couldn’t. 

“Don’t be such a tease Tomlinson. Tell me everything,“ she insists brightly and Louis really wants to hate her.

But how could he? When she’s so nice and so pretty. It’s not Cara’s fault that she got there first. It’s certainly not her fault that Louis got caught up in his own mind, scared shitless of trying something with someone from the industry after so many disappointments. And more than anything, it’s not her fault that she was born a woman. Although Louis is not one hundred percent sure that Harry Styles is straight. It’s a vibe he gets, that maybe, maybe, if Harry were free, he could have a chance. He’s not always right, of course, his gaydar has been known to disappoint in the past and Louis would certainly not rely merely on it. Yet the thought is a bit upsetting if Louis allows himself to have it. Because if it’s the case, if Harry is not only interested in women, it means that Louis could have gotten a shot. If he only hadn’t been scared shitless after seeing him on the runway for the first time, all those months ago. If he had stayed at the after party to talk instead of hiding home to google the newcomer pathetically, then maybe things would be different. They’re not, though. Louis is a coward with a stupid rule and Harry is an unavailable Disney prince and Cara. Cara is one lucky woman.

“No, no, no,“ Louis refuses and he knows that she won’t think twice about it. He rarely reveals anything, too caught up in his own art and fears to dare talk about something that’s not finished yet.

She sighs loudly and her make-up artist actually groans at her. “Sorry Karen. Sorry,” Cara says sheepishly.

“You’re being particularly fidgety today,” Karen complains.

“I know, sorry. I’m just happy to see Louis,” Cara replies and wow. Isn’t that a knife right through his heart.

He should cancel lunch with Harry. It’s under false pretence and he’s being a horrible person. The only logical thing to do would be to cancel. He won’t. Of course not. But it would be the right thing to do. 

“Pfff,” Louis starts. “It hasn’t even been that long. Stop giving Karen excuses and stop moving around,” he teases.

“It’s been ages. And the other night at the restaurant you didn’t even come to say hi.” She pouts attractively and it’s quite a magical thing, how quickly she manages to make him feel bad. Damn all of these people who uses their faces for a living. They’re too malleable and it’s too easy for them to manipulate him into feelings thing he doesn’t want to feel and that’s hardly fair.

“I was in a hurry…” Louis replies, hating how feeble the excuse sounds even to his own ears.

“Yeah, that’s what Hazza said,“ she answers and wow that’s such a cute nickname. Louis hates it automatically. He tries not to imagine Harry calling her Cazza, but the thought enters his mind and now it’s a mental loop of low rumble, whispering in her ear at night and Louis has never hated being a jealous guy more than he does now.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say. He both wants to go away, leave the conversation entirely, but he also wants to ask about him. Now that Harry’s been mentioned, Louis wants to question her, he wants to know everything.

“Hey,” she suddenly says, as if remembering something. “He said you guys were getting lunch. That’s cool.”

She smiles innocently and Louis hateshateshates himself.

“Yeah,” he replies weakly. “Should be fun.”

“He’s a huge fan of yours, did you know?” she whispers conspiratorially. “Has been from the very start. Remember that article vogue did on upcoming designers”  she asks and how could Louis forget? His big break. “Harry’s like obsessed with it, it’s super cute. Said it was the best piece of designing he’d ever seen from someone so young and blah blah blah… How you influenced his style and shit. Proper fangirl he is. He was so jealous when he realized we were friends.”

Oh, Louis thinks. That’s actually super sweet and really flattering, but almost mildly problematic. Louis is not sure he wanted to know that, he’s not sure he should have. He imagines young Harry, with chubby cheeks and innocent eyes, reading vogue and liking Louis, liking Louis’ work. It’s a bit too much for him to stomach. It makes him feel all fuzzy inside.

“Did he?” he manages to get out with a nervous laugh.

“Oh yeah. Absolutely. I think he’d die if he got to model for you,” Cara adds and Louis thinks back to all of the clothes he’s started to design for Harry and his shame decreases. If only slightly.

“Oh, well. Maybe we can work something out,” Louis finally says, thinking it’s ambiguous enough that it doesn’t sound like a no, without making him seem overeager either. He’s not quite sure if he wants to work with Harry. He’d like to, of course. But he’s not sure if he’d be able to control himself. If being exposed to him this much could result in too much heartbreak. Probably not, considering his crush is at its end. Louis decided so.

“Don’t say that to him if you don’t mean it,” Cara warns, amused by the whole thing. “You’ll break his heart if you don’t follow through.”

I’m the one who’ll end up heartbroken, Louis thinks.

“Yeah, no. ‘Course not. I mean, I’ll think about it. We’ll see.”

Cara nods before apologizing to Karen, who waves her off.

“I’m done anyway. Now let him see if his clothes fit good,” Karen says before leaving.

Cara gives Louis a little twirl, showing Louis his dress. It fits perfectly of course and Cara looks amazing. Louis fiddles with the collar a little if only to have something to do and after a few more seconds, he deems himself satisfied. He nods to himself, still inspecting every single inch of fabric, making sure nothing falls awkwardly and that Cara’s body is really showcasing the dress at its best.

“Satisfied?” Cara asks. 

Louis teases her, makes weird faces and shrug before saying: “Meh...You’ll do.”

She gasps, insulted and hit him on the arm as punishment. Louis laughs, relieved that he can still have nice moments with her without the situation looming over him.

“You look beautiful Cara,” Louis finally says.

“Your dress is beautiful, you mean?” Cara replies cheekily.

“Well, that too, obviously,” Louis says without modesty. “Okay, I’m gonna go check the others and make sure everything is okay.”

Cara nods. “Sure, talk to you later?”

Louis nods in reply before busying himself with the other models. The shoulder on one of his shirt doesn’t fit properly on the model and Louis spends ten minutes cursing while he tries to fix it. It was working perfectly at the fitting and now that it matters, of course, everything is ruined. He manages a temporary solution that won’t show on the pictures and tell himself he’ll rework it later. 

The day drags on painfully and despite not necessarily having to be there for all of it, Louis wouldn’t leave for all the money in the world. He likes being part of the process. The mere thought of not being involved in every single aspect makes him feel itchy and uncomfortable. His mum - and these days Zayn -  tells him that it’s because he’s too controlling, but he likes to think that it’s simply because he’s involved. He’s glad he’s not one of those apathetic guys who doesn’t care about their work. Sure, deep down, it’s just because he wants to make sure that everything goes exactly according to his plan and that nothing is changed without his consent. But to other people, he tells the apathetic story. It really makes him seem like a much better guy than he is. Still, he stays. Faithful, watchful; he stays. 

When the day is finally over, Louis lets out a relieved breath. Finally. He can leave. He’s mentally debating whether he should go Thai or Indian for his take out of the evening when he hears Cara’s voice calling him. When he turns around towards her, he’s quite surprised to see Harry, standing against the wall, long legs crossed in front of him, looking sinful and charming both at the same time. (Which really shouldn’t be allowed.) He’s shocked for a second before he twists his face into a smile and walks to them. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Hey,” he says when he joins them.

“Hi,“ Harry says with a little wave. _No_ , Louis thinks. _Don’t even think about it._

“What’s up?” Louis asks Harry and immediately hates himself for it.

Harry laughs and shrugs. “Not much. I was just picking Cara up.”

“We’re getting sushi from that place around the corner,” Cara announces and maybe Louis is making it up, maybe he’s imagining it, but she sounds triumphant. 

“Oh,” Louis says. “That’s nice.”

“You should come,” Harry offers and Cara lights up at the thought because she doesn’t know that Louis is a disgusting person who’s lusting after someone that belongs to her. Cara just thinks he’s a good friend and she wants her good friend and her boyfriend to get on, apparently. Wow, Louis really can’t go.

“I can’t,” he replies with as much as fake regret as he can gather. He doesn’t particularly fancy watching them sharing sushi all evening long and looking pretty and tall while doing it.

“No,” Cara protests. “You already blew us off last time. Besides, I've been wanting to do something for your birthday!"

“Sorry,” Louis replies. “I’m a busy bee.” _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ Louis thinks, but Harry - bless him - laughs at the comment.

“Dorks,” Cara says. “I won’t take no for an answer. I know I won't see before the 24th.”

“I’m already engaged tonight lovely Cara, I really can’t.”

“With whom?” she asks suspicious, and what the hell is up with her?

“Zayn, if you must know.” Louis is pretty sure that Zayn is still in New York City and he really hopes Cara doesn’t know that.

“Bring him,” Cara insists.

“It doesn’t matter love,“ Harry says softly and this is exactly why Louis doesn’t want to go. 

She pouts charmingly again but ends up agreeing with Harry. And who wouldn’t after being called love by him really? Not Louis, of course. He’s stronger than that. But normal people probably can’t resist at all.

“We have to do something together soon, okay?” Cara insists as they leave the building.

“Yeah, sure,” Louis replies with absolutely no intention of following through. Talk about an awkward evening.

“You promise?”

Louis sighs. “Sure Cara, I promise.”

 _I’d rather die_ , Louis thinks as he walks towards the tube.

 

*

 

On the day of his lunch with Harry, Louis is nervous. He knows it’s silly and irrational - it’s not like he’s going on a date or anything like that - but he can’t stop himself. He fiddles with his quiff for over half an hour before deciding it’s a catastrophe anyway and hiding it under a red beanie, letting his fringe poke out. He keeps glancing at the clock nervously, obsessively, every five seconds like a crazy person. He talks to himself, tries to calm himself down. He even drinks a chamomile, even though he hates it, trying to soothe the nerves in his body, trying to unwire himself. It doesn’t work, obviously.

The thing is, it does feel like a date. All official and everything. Harry is picking him up. Who picks people up to get lunch? What is that even about? Louis knows not to get his hopes up, he’s not stupid. But he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen Cara and Harry kiss once. And even though, rationally, he knows that they are together, he can’t help thinking that if they’re not… Then he has a good shot. He’s not supposed to want one, of course, no models and all that, but it’s Harry Styles. Harry Styles who’s tall and healthy, who cooks and misses his home and who has the prettiest blush Louis has ever seen. But alas. Life is life and Louis doesn’t have a choice but to continue to play the role of the faithful and lonely friend, always in the shadows, lurking creepily.

His wallowing is interrupted by a knock on his door. He shakes his head and take a deep breath before answering. He can totally do this.

"Hey," Harry says, all smiles when Louis finally gathers the courage to open the door. 

"Hi," Louis says and he mentally praises himself for how normal his voice sounds. Harry looks devastatingly good, despite mixing plaid and stripes, if what Louis can spy under his coat is to be trusted. Like a lot of things about Harry, it would probably look completely ridiculous on anyone else - hell, it would infuriate Louis on anyone else - but instead he manages to make it seems charming and fun rather than mismatched and horrifying. Louis should hate him for that.   
  
"Ready?" Harry asks.

Louis nods and puts on his coat. They remain silent as they walk to Harry's car and Louis laughs when he notice the Range Rover.

Harry frowns and it simultaneously makes him look like a cartoon and a pouting child, maybe a cartoon of a pouting child. "You have something against my car?" he asks Louis has he unlocks the doors and opens Louis' for him. 

And he's a gentleman too. Completely unfair.

Louis waits until they're both seated before replying. "Giant car for a giant boy," he teases because he can't help but think that Harry's car is basically the transformer version of himself, just like Louis' tiny car fits him perfectly, and isn't that lovely, how similar they are in that way. Louis knows he's fishing for similarities and things they have in common at this point, but still. He likes their respective cars. They'd look cute parked next to each other in their family home. Almost as cute as Harry and Louis would look next to each other. Louis blinks himself out of it almost as soon as the thoughts enter his brain.  _Not a date!_ He reminds himself sternly. There's no point in torturing himself further by entertaining those ideas any longer.

Harry just rolls his eyes at the comment, taking it in stride as he always do, and starts fiddling with the radio for a few seconds. "M'not a giant," he finally replies. Louis can hear the pout. "I'm actually quite small."

Louis humphs his protest and purposefully changes the radio station to some top 40 channel that he knows Harry won't like. Quite small? Louis has never heard anything more insulting in his entire life.

(That's actually not quite true. Louis has heard many insulting things in his life, more often than not directed at him, but he's always actively remembering himself to forget about those and act like they never happened. Hence.)

"I am, though," Harry insists with a laugh. "By models standards I'm tiny. Not even 6 feet," he pouts exaggeratingly and attractively again, this time looking directly at Louis.

"Yeah, well, by real life standards you're a giant so stop complaining you oaf!"

"You just say that 'cause you're tiny!" Harry sing-songs. 

"You take that back Styles!" Louis gasps and he both hates and loves that Harry manages to make him react like that. He can see the happy twinkle in Harry's eyes and he wishes he were stronger, just for a few seconds, and didn't fall so easily for his games. "I'll have you know that I'm at the average height for the British male."

Harry nods quickly, focusing back on the road. "Sure..." he agrees absently. "Still an average, though... Means a lot of people are taller..."

"And smaller!" Louis argues. His height is one of those things he's fiercely protective of and absolutely refuses to be mocked for.

"Don't worry," Harry says slowly. "It's cute."

It sounds a lot like flirting and it's really hard for Louis to remember this is not a date when Harry makes comments like that. It's really, really hard.

"Where are you taking me anyway?" Louis asks, trying to subtly change the subject. "I'm a posh boy, you're gonna work hard to impress me," he teases.

Harry laughs and bites his lips. "Humm. I was taking you back to my place actually," he admits. "I said I was gonna cook for you?" he adds and Louis remembers him mentioning it in Tesco. He hadn't taken him seriously at the time, thinking Harry was either kidding or just trying too hard to be nice. Now they're here though and Harry actually looks bashful and a bit shy about it. 

"Oh," Louis simply says because what is he supposed to say to that? Who picks someone in the middle of the day to cook them lunch? What is Harry Styles?

"We can go somewhere if you'd prefer!" Harry quickly adds, stumbling over his words. " I ...ugh... I make a mean taco, though..." he says sheepishly. "Promise."

"No, it's fine. It's perfect. The home-cooked meal sounds wonderful actually."

"Bet you don't eat lots of those," Harry mumbles and Louis lets it pass, just this once.

 

*

 

Turns out Harry Styles is not a liar and he does make a mean taco. Louis is pleasantly buzzed from the wine bottle they shared and he fills so full he might actually burst. He's pretty sure he just gained fifty pounds from Harry's dessert alone. 

"Oh my god," he moans dramatically dropping his head on the table.

Harry is some sort of magical elf; he's already cleaned out the entire area and tackled the dishes enthusiastically while telling Louis long rambly stories about some shoot he did somewhere in Japan. 

"You okay?" Harry asks. His biceps look particularly good, flexing as he dries the plates. He doesn't even have to go on his tiptoes to put them back in the higher cupboards. Louis can still hear him, in his mind, complaining about being small and he hates him a little.

"No," Louis whines in the table. "You have officially killed me with food."

Harry laughs, happy and delighted. "Well, if your Tesco basket is to be trusted, it doesn't take much to impress you, after all that frozen shit."

Louis whines again. "Don't go all modelly and health nut on me, I'm not strong enough right now."

He hears Harry laugh again and Louis can't help but think that life really is unfair. He should have said no. Agreeing to lunch was a big mistake.

"Seriously, though, that was amazing. Thanks, man," Louis says, turning his head slightly, finally looking at Harry again.

He's beaming, of course, cheesy motherfucker. He shrugs nonchalantly like it was nothing. "You're welcome here anytime."

Louis shakes his head quickly, unsure how to response to such an heartfelt invitation. "Oh no, don't tempt me. I'm actually considering kidnapping you forever so you can become my househusband," he admits honestly, hoping Harry will see it as the joke Louis is aiming for, instead of the truth he's revealing.

He looks carefully at Harry as soon as he finishes his sentence, hoping his reaction will give him clues as to what he's thinking. Yes, Louis really is that desperate. But Harry doesn't give much away. He blushes a little in what Louis hope isn't embarrassment at the comment and goes back to his dishes. 

"Want any help with that?" Louis offers because despite hating chores with the burning passion of a thousand sun, he does want to make a good impression.

"Nah. You're the guest. Just relax."

"Thank god," Louis replies. "Pretty sure I'm too comatose to move anyway."

Harry laughs loudly again and Louis loves that he can have that effect on him, that Harry finds him so amusing, so entertaining that he literally can't help himself or his reactions sometimes. 

"Ugh," Louis complains. "I actually have to go work now. What have you done to me?"

He wants to stay in this flat, with Harry, forever. 

"Sorry?" Harry asks hesitantly. He seems to hesitate for a moment. "I just fed you properly," he argues childishly.

"It's bad for productivity. I just want to nap now. Or maybe get more of that chocolate thing you did... I dunno."

He's pretty sure he couldn't take one more bite even if he wanted to, but the memory of the deliciousness tempts him still, despite being so full. 

"Chocolate mousse," Harry replies. "I've got more in the fridge if you want?" He offers quickly.

Louis shakes his head regretfully. "I would love to gain a few more pounds by eating that unhealthily divine thing of yours but I do have a dress to make." He gets out his seat with difficulty, getting ready to leave.

Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly curious. "Anything interesting?" He asks. 

Louis shrugs, a bit bashful. He doesn't like bragging. Especially when this particular design is going so badly. "The Oscars..." he mumbles. It's still hard to believe sometimes. He knows he's pretty well established and well known in the British Fashion world, but that's simply something else, a big much bigger exposure. 

"Oh my- Louis! That's incredible!" Harry exclaims as he drags Louis into a tight hug. "Congratulations," he whispers in Louis' ears and Louis thinks he might die. They're pressed together tightly and he doesn't even care that Harry's hands are soapy and gross as they rub his back. Harry smells good and he's everywhere and Louis isn't even allowed to fancy him.

"Thanks," Louis says, voice muffled by Harry's shoulder. He waits a few seconds but Harry doesn't move away. He just keeps on holding him. Louis coughs a little. "You're dripping on my back Harold," he finally says and that does the trick.

"Oh my god, Louis. I'm so sorry." He looks absolutely horrified. "Hang on, I'll lend you something," he adds as he starts walking towards what Louis assumes is his bedroom, rubbing his palms on his jeans to dry his hands in the process.

"That's not necessary," Louis protests weakly. There's no way he's going home with a piece of clothing that smells like Harry. That can't be good for his health. Or his sexual frustration.

"Don't be silly," Harry teases when he gets back a few seconds later, a maroon jumper in hand. "Gimme your t-shirt and I'll put it in the wash and give it to you next week when you come for dinner," Harry says with confidence.

Louis raise an eyebrow. "Bit presumptuous, innit? What makes you think I'm coming back next week?" he says as he makes a show of taking his t-shirt off, throwing it at Harry and rubbing his collarbones absently. He can be a tease too.

"You're coming to pick up your t-shirt," Harry replies, as if it's obvious, dangling the garment in Louis' face. 

 _He's not single,_ Louis tells himself firmly.  _He's not single and you're not that guy._

"I can't next week," Louis answers truthfully like he hasn't actually contemplated cancelling all previous engagements to come see Harry instead. 

"All week?" Harry says, disbelieving, crossing his arms.

" It's Christmas?" Louis says with disbelief. "And for once I managed to get more than two days off so I'm spending the week at mum's with my army of siblings." 

Harry smiles and there's an edge of wistfulness to it. "That's nice," he says softly.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Louis asks carefully because there's a story there, he can tell. "You're not working?" He adds, already outraged on Harry's behalf. 

Harry laughs a little. "No. I'm also going to my mum's for Christmas day, but she and my stepdad are going on holiday the next day and my sister's working so... Spending most of the week here in London."

"Oh," Louis says. "Well, you'll see your friends."

Harry nods. "Yeah, maybe... I mean, most of them are going home, but I guess they'll probably be back for New Years'," he agrees, but he still looks a bit sad and that won't do.

"S'weird a bit," Louis starts with uncertainty. He doesn't want to be rude or judge, but... "A holiday at Christmas..." Louis continues, hoping it won't offend Harry and that it'll get him to open up a little. Louis can tell he's upset and he knows that they're not that close -not yet- but he has this burning desire, this need, to make it better. Somehow. 

"They got a really great last minute deal," Harry simply replies with a small shrug. "Mum didn't really want to go since we barely see each other as it is, but I insisted. We're still seeing each other Christmas day, that's what matters."

"That's very nice of you," Louis replies and that's just not fair. All of it is unfair. Harry can't be that beautiful inside out with all that self-sacrificing and kindness... Louis feels like Harry is the type of person who would do anything to make the people he loves happy, who would always put himself second, just to make sure others are satisfied and well. Louis can't help but hope that he has someone who remembers to put him first, can't help but hope that Cara does that for him. 

Harry shrugs again. "Not really," he says. "She deserves a nice holiday. That's important. We'll see each other later."

"You can always go to Cara's..." Louis offers and hates himself a little for it. He's been avoiding mentioning anything to do with her in his conversations with Harry. He's worked so hard to make sure he doesn't ever get to know the details, yet here he is. One little pout from Harry Styles and he's willingly bringing up the only thing that could shatter his heart. It's pathetic. 

Harry doesn't seem to like the idea though and that soothes the sting a little. He frowns at Louis, giving him a weird look at the suggestion. Their relationship probably isn't at that level yet, Louis assumes.

"I couldn't," Harry quickly replies. "I don't want to bother her family time. We get so little of it."

 _You can bother my family time,_ Louis thinks vividly. If they were closer... If they were friends... Maybe then he'd have the courage to ask Harry around for a couple of days, make sure he doesn't spend the week moping around, make sure he's properly cheered up. As it is, they're only acquaintances, barely not strangers anymore and it would be wildly inappropriate. So Louis just shuts up about it.

"I guess," he says pathetically, glad that the conversation hasn't shifted to Harry's relationship like he feared. 

"It doesn't matter," Harry says with a smile. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," Louis says even though he's not completely convinced. "I'll come pick my t-shirt up when I get back, yeah? We can do something," Louis adds, grasping Harry's shoulder tightly. Harry nods and he doesn't look as much like a kicked puppy so Louis is pretty satisfied. "Listen, I hate to run like that, but I really do have to get back to work..."

"Yeah, course." Harry shakes his head. "I can drive you back home."

"Oh no. It's fine, really," Louis insists, already at the door, struggling with his shoes. He says his goodbye quickly and kisses Harry's cheek spontaneously as he leaves before he can talk himself out of it. He doesn't regret it until after he's left Harry's flat.

 

*

 

A few days later, right as he's about to leave for his mum's, Louis gets a text from Harry asking if he's already left. He's at the door, all bundled up, bags in hand, but he hasn't left yet so.

 _No,_ he quickly sends back, hating that he's so obviously desperate for Harry's attention. His sisters are expecting him in a few hours, he really does have to go.

 _Nice!_ Harry immediately texts back, like he's been waiting for Louis' response and that makes his heart slightly flutter.  _Want to go ice skating with me in Hyde Park?_

Louis really shouldn't. It'll only make him want Harry more than he already does. If that's humanly possible. (It probably isn't.)

 _Okay,_ he still sends back because he's a bad person who likes flirting with his friends' boyfriends apparently.

They meet up an hour later, after Louis has given his mum some bullshit excuse about leaving later to avoid traffic, and Louis has a hard time feeling guilty for blowing his family off when he sees Harry bundled up in an expensive coat and a pink beanie that almost swallows all of his hair and half of his face. He's wearing a matching scarf, wrapped up around his mouth and only his eyes are visible beneath it all. They're sparkling with happiness when he spots Louis and he's pretty sure the dimple would show if he wasn't so dressed up. _Fuck the dimple really_ , Louis can't help but think as he walks towards Harry. He's standing in the middle of the way, right under the sparkly  _Winter Wonderland_ sign and tourists keep giving him nasty eyes as they try to make their way in. Harry is beautifully unbothered by it all as he waves at Louis.

"Hey!" Harry says after they've hugged, voice muffled by the scarf. He struggles a little with it, putting it down and finally smiles at Louis and there they are. The dimples of doom. Louis really needs some help.

"Could you be more annoying?" Louis says as an opening, pointing at all the people having to walk around him to get in.

Harry shrugs. "Oooops!" he says candidly.

"You really are used to getting what you want," Louis accuses, but he can't help finding it oddly charming.  _I and the rest of the world,_ he thinks bitterly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry teases.

Louis sighs and shakes his head. "Ice skating?" He simply says because he's not sure he can trust himself with anything else right now. "Really?"

"You came," Harry says with a huge grin and Louis doesn't understand how that doesn't sound arrogant. Surely that amount of confidence should... But not on Harry Styles.

"Come on," Louis says firmly, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him through the market towards the ice ring. The last thing he wants to be discussing is his willingness to do almost anything Harry asks. Here's an embarrassing conversation he'd like to avoid forever, thank you very much. 

Harry is easily distracted though and they end up spending over an hour walking from stand to stand as Harry talks lengthily to all the sellers, observing their products with careful reverence, buying a little something from almost all of them. The world almost ends when Harry enthusiastically enters a stand selling hand-painted bowls from Turkey and almost break a shelve holding the larger ones. The catastrophe is mercifully avoided though and Louis thanks the man thrice for wrapping Harry's purchase in double the normal bubble wrap portion. 

"What are you gonna do with all of this?" Louis asks as he looks at all of Harry's bags. 

"Christmas presents!" Harry replies cheerfully like it's obvious. 

"Aren't you a little late in your shopping? Christmas is in a few days..."

"Well, I already bought most people gifts, but..." he stops sheepishly.

Louis laughs loudly. 

"Hey!" Harry protests loudly, looking like an oversized child. "Nothing wrong with buying presents for the people I love," he says seriously and Louis' heart clenches painfully. He wishes he could be on that list so badly. 

"'Course not Harold. Nothing wrong with that," Louis agrees.

Harry shakes his head. "Not my name," he protests, but it's very feeble. 

They've almost reached the ice ring when Harry gets distracted - once again - by leather-bound notebooks this time.

"Look, Lou," Harry says, pointing to one with a pair of swallows carved into the cover. 

Louis smiles, running a finger slowly on the birds. They're his favourite all of all Harry's tattoos and he doesn't understand why most of his adds cover them up. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that.

"How much?" Harry asks because of course he's going to buy it. 

"15£" the lady replies and Harry immediately reaches inside his jacket for his wallet. 

"They look exactly like mine," he tells the woman, starting to tell her a long story of the day he got them done in LA as she politely nods at his ramblings.

"While that's a fascinating story Curly, I'm sure Madam here as things to do that doesn't involve listening to self-obsessed models," Louis teases, dragging Harry away from the stall.

Harry still keeps on babbling about his swallows though, but Louis is the only one that has to listen this time. He doesn't mind at all . Quite the opposite. Louis would love to be Harry's only audience. 

It's only when they've put the ice skates on that Louis realizes that this might not have been the greatest plan they've ever had. Harry on land is a catastrophe waiting to happen. Louis has seen it. Many times. In fact, Louis has seen it many times today alone. But Harry on ice is like a baby foal trying to walk for the first time; extremely determined, but inevitably bound to failure. He makes his way slowly, falling on his arse every few minutes and Louis would love to help him, he would, if it wasn't so hilarious to watch him struggling with it.

"Alright there?" Louis yells as he gracefully makes his way to where Harry is sprawled all over the ice, letting skaters avoid his limp form without trying to get up.

"I forgot how much I suck at this," Harry pouts and Louis can't help the bubbly laugh that escapes him. "Not funny," Harry protests and the thing is that it really, really is. Harry doesn't agree when Louis says so.

"Explain something to me," Louis says when he finally stops laughing. He's down with Harry now, sitting next to him on the ice, his bum getting colder and colder. "How come you're so graceful on the runway?"

Harry blushes and shrugs. 

"Come on," Louis prompts. "You manage to walk perfectly fine at fashion shows and now this," he continues.

"There's no ice on the runway," Harry says, moving up to sit down next to Louis. The DJ is giving them a nasty glare and Louis has a feeling they'll get kicked out soon if they keep sitting him the middle of the ring. Not that he cares really. This is more important.

"There was no ice at Grimmy's party," Louis singsongs. 

"Fuck off," Harry laughs, pushing Louis' shoulder. "S'just not the same."

Louis wants to ask more, but he knows Harry will give it to him in due time.

"I'm not really me when I'm on the runway, you know?" Harry finally offers. "S'like... I'm not  _Harry._ I'm Harry Styles. It's different. Easier to talk yourself out of it and just... be in your zone... do your thing... Does that make sense?" 

Louis nods slowly. The thought that Harry feels like he can't be himself to do his job fills him with sadness, but he can definitely say that he understands. Louis himself has seen and understood the difference between Harry Styles and Harry, like his public persona is a blanket he hides under, a paper shield to protect himself from the world they have to bathe in. 

"It's stupid," Harry says in a thick voice, trying to get up quickly and falling face first. Louis manages to catch him last minute and they end up in an awkward embrace.

"It's really not," Louis whispers in Harry's ear.

 

*

 

Louis knows that his Christmas will be an awkward affair the minute he walks into his mother's house in Doncaster and finds the twins slumped on the sofa, peering at some gossip magazines with Harry grinning on the cover.

"What's more interesting than your big brother finally coming home after weeks and weeks and weeks of pining?" he asks loudly when they barely glance at him.

"Haven't been pining," Daisy says, head still buried in the magazine.

"Harry Styles' new interview just came out," Phoebe adds, excited and at least, she's looking at him. "His favourite movie is Love Actually, did you know?" 

Louis actually did know, only because Harry suggested that they watch it when Louis would be back in London. Louis had protested, of course, saying that Christmas would be long gone and that it wouldn't fit. Harry had argued that _it's still the holidays until New Years and_   _it's a holiday movie, Lou!!_ They had bickered about it while Hyde Park's ferris wheel offered them a beautiful view of London. Louis tries not to think too much about it.

"I did not know that," Louis lies because he can't possibly admit to it. He knows he's a pretty sad person, but that would just be taking things to a whole new level.

"He has a cat named Dusty," Daisy says, finally emerging from her reading. "And since cats are  _my_ favourite animals, it means we're clearly made for each other," she adds with a glare towards her sister.

Phoebe huffs, insulted. "Please," she starts. "Come back to me when you're obsessed with Elvis like me and Harry."

Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He has a crush on the same person as his pubescent sisters. This is a new low even for him. 

 

*

 

In the end, it only takes Louis two days after Christmas to become completely overwhelmed with the need to run away. He loves his family fiercely and those couple of days with them has been lovely, lovelier than he has had in quite a long time, but there's so much a man can take without having to take a break. His mother and two eldest sisters keep nagging him about his relationship status, comparing him to Zayn's perfect situation and while he knows they only worry about him and do this with kind intentions, he wants to blow his brains out whenever the subject is approached. 

And to make things worse he has to sleep in Daisy's bed while she shares with Phoebe which means that Harry's face - and sometimes even Harry's body which is a frightening thought considering his baby sisters are only thirteen and they shouldn't stare at anyone's body especially not Harry's- is staring at him from various angles whenever he tries to sleep.

But it's not the creepiness of his sisters' room or the nagging that make him snap and run back to London with his tail between his legs. No. It's Harry's constant tweeting of sad song lyrics that make him race home on the 27th. What kind of a friend would he be if he let his friends alone in distress during the holidays? 

He ends up texting Harry on the way while he takes a pee break near Leicester. _Can I come get my t-shirt now?_ he simply sends.

 _you're back? :D_ Harry replies instantly which makes Louis feels validated in his life choices. 

 _on the way._ Louis taps a nervous beat on the steering wheel  while waiting for Harry's reply.

 _Don't text and drive!!!!!_ Harry sends first with a string of angry emojis. 

Louis rolls his eyes before replying that he's not, of course not. 

_Good. Wanna come for dinner tomorrow? It's a birthday dinner btw. Cause we didn't get to celebrate._

Louis only blushes a little when he agrees. 

 

*

 

The next evening finds them in Harry's living room after dessert. They're both sitting next to each other on the sofa, sipping on their wine. Everything is slow and warm and comfortable. Louis doesn't remember why he ever wanted to stay away from Harry.

"Oh!" Harry suddenly says, standing up quickly, almost falling on Louis in the process.

"What?" Louis asks, a bit drunk and confused. 

"Forgot your present," Harry says as he leaves the room. 

"Didn't have to get me one...." Louis mumbles in his glass, but he's pretty sure that Harry would have ignored him even if he could hear him from his bedroom.

"Tada! Happy birthday!" Harry giggles as he gives Louis a present wrapped in newspaper. Louis raises an eyebrow at the unusual wrapping. "S'more ecological," Harry says proudly. 

"It's nice," Louis replies as he carefully unwraps it. His throat feels tight when he finally see the notebook inside. He stroke the swallows softly, trying to buy himself some time.

"It's for your sketches," Harry says softly. "You looked like you liked it," he adds with a shy shrug. Louis does like it. He likes it a lot.

He clears his throat, puts his present down and gets up from the sofa before wrapping Harry in a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispers in Harry's neck. "It's lovely."

Harry simply giggles happily into Louis’ neck and he’s way drunker than Louis thought. Ridiculously so. It’s both endearing and infuriating if Louis’ honest. Dinner was lovely and spending time with Harry is always fun of course, but having him pressing himself against Louis’ body is hard, in more than one way. It reminds Louis of all that he can’t have, all that he forbids himself to have, all that the universe forbids him to have. Harry seems unaware of Louis’ struggle, as usual. He just keeps on laughing happily, trying to make himself smaller, to fit into Louis’ side, to disappear into him almost. Louis likes it more than he should.

“I like you,” Harry mumbles in Louis’ ear and Louis has to shiver at that because it’s Harry, his low voice, his panting breath against Louis’ skin, where he's most sensitive.

“Yeah?” Louis asks softly. “You like me or my designs?”

“Both,” Harry says with a giggle, rubbing his face on Louis’ shoulder. He is so drunk. “Like you better, though.”

Louis’ heart squeeze painfully at that. Maybe Harry isn’t trying to use him after all. It’s not like Louis has really been thinking that. Of course not. He hasn’t for weeks. But to hear Harry states it so plainly is doing things to his blood pressure. It’s not enough, though. It never is. Harry likes Louis. He really does. Harry sincerely likes Louis. But that’s not what Louis wants. He wants more. He wants everything. Louis wants to be pressed against Harry like this every day. Hell, he wants to be pressed against Harry like this every day for the rest of his life and he doesn’t really care if that makes him sound sappy. He means it. 

“I like you too Curly,” Louis manages to say weakly. He knows his voice betrays his fondness, his tenderness, but in that instant Louis doesn’t really care. Would he be really so bad for Harry to understand what really means when he says it? Would it be really so bad for Harry to understand that it’s more than friendship for Louis? Maybe he’d stop touching Louis so much and Louis could go back to his normal life. Before homemade meals and nights spent walking around London. Before the unbearable pining… Maybe Harry would be more careful with Louis and he would make things easier for his friend…

But Harry doesn’t look shocked when he looks up from Louis’ shoulder. Maybe he didn’t understand, Louis figures. Friends usually like each other after all. He looks serious, though. Really serious. Serious like Louis has never ever seen him before and it’s a bit uncomfortable. They stare at each other silently and Harry’s eyes don’t look absent or unfocused. It’s like he sobered up in the few seconds it took Louis to tell him he likes him and that’s a bit terrifying. 

“You do?” Harry asks and he sounds doubtful.

Louis can’t have been that shit of a friend, can he? He knows, rationally, that he hasn’t always been perfectly welcoming, but he was only protecting himself. He never meant for Harry to notice. He never meant to hurt Harry’s feelings. Just assuring his would be okay.

“Of course, I do,” Louis says passionately and he doesn’t even have the time to finish the sentence because Harry grabs his neck and kisses him.

Louis’ entire body goes into shock. He can’t process what’s happening. He refuses to acknowledge the feeling of Harry’s hands on his neck, in his hair. He doesn’t think about their lips pressing against each other, biting, sucking, licking. They get closer. Somehow they get closer and Louis thinks he’s going to die because he can feel Harry everywhere. Harry is all he can feel and hear and smell and touch. It doesn’t make sense. None of it does, but Louis refuses to question it. He simply chooses to enjoy the heat of Harry against him.

They keep on kissing for what feels like ages. Louis is disoriented, drunk on Harry’s touch and he feels like he might burst or cry or both. Suddenly, Harry starts walking them towards a wall and he pushes Louis against, gripping his thigh, wrapping them around his hips. Louis moans when he feels Harry’s cock against his through their jeans. He’s so hard he might cry and he wants Harry. He’s wanted Harry for months. He’s wanted desperately and now he can touch and kiss and it’s too much. He can’t even remember why he wasn’t supposed to want this in the first place. Not when it feels so good, when it’s so blissful. Harry’s fingers dig into Louis’ arse, supporting Louis’s entire weight, biceps flexing underneath his t-shirt and it’s so hot Louis whimpers at the sight.

“Harry,” he moans, tugging at his curls, trying to rub against the younger boy.

Harry just bites his neck and goes back to kissing him thoroughly, stopping Louis’ hips in their movement.

It’s not fair. Louis has waited for so long. Louis has lusted after Harry’s body for what he feels like forever and he’s been lusting after his mind as well recently and none of it is fair. They kiss and kiss and kiss, until Louis’ lips actually feel numb and he almost can’t breathe, panting roughly in Harry’s ear when he gets a break. And then they kiss some more.

Louis doesn’t understand how Harry can hold him up for so long. It feels like they’ve been kissing for hours, the longest foreplay in the world, and yet Harry doesn’t falter. There’s drool on Louis’ chin, everything is messy and unsophisticated, but it’s good, it’s really good. Not only that, but it’s filthy in the best way. Louis can’t remember the last time a boy took the time to really kiss him.  He feels weak inside just thinking about it. Harry leaves his lips alone for a few moments and Louis takes the time to breathe roughly, overwhelmed by the way the evening has evolved.

Harry is relentless, though. The moment his lips leaves Louis’, he’s kissing up and down his neck, sucking playfully behind his ears. Louis is putty in his hands.

“Been wanting to do this forever…” Harry whispers and his voice is rougher, lower than usual. Louis feels a spike of arousal throughout his body and actually trembles at the sound.

He moans softly before answering. “Me too, me too,” he whines. “Fuck Harry. Me too.”

Harry laughs and Louis feels it rumbling through his chest. This is the best sex he’s ever had. And they haven’t gotten to the sex yet. Louis is pretty sure that nothing can compare to this as he stares at Harry, breaths in Harry. He’s not sure why it’s so special, so intense, but he’s never felt this before. Louis thinks he might actually die if Harry doesn’t touch him properly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Louis complains and Harry just laughs again. Louis thinks this might be the greatest moment of his life. “Shut up and kiss me!" 

Harry doesn’t laugh this time. He just smiles, offering Louis his dimples. “Yes, sir,” he replies before kissing Louis again.

Louis sighs happily into Harry’s mouth, pleasantly buzzed from the wine, dizzy from love or some shit. He feels stupid and sappy for thinking it, but there it is. They kiss some more, slower, like they have all the time in the world. Maybe they do.

After a while, Harry seems to start getting tired. His grip keeps slipping and his arms are shaking from the effort. 

“Hey, hey,” Louis tries to talk between kisses. It’s hard when Harry is so determined to lick every single inch of his mouth. “You can put me down,” Louis manages to say. 

Harry shakes his head stubbornly and starts nosing at Louis’ jaw.

“Yeah, you should,” Louis insists. “We could take this to the sofa.”

Harry seems to think about it while pressing loud kisses all along Louis’ neck, like he can’t seem to get enough of him. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever felt so empowered and beautiful in his entire life. 

“Or the bed,” Louis continues in a giggle when Harry bites his ear. “I’m pretty sure you have one of those, right?” 

“Yeah,” Harry finally says, putting Louis slowly back on the ground. He wobbles a little, like a swooning damsel in distress, and he’d be embarrassed if Harry’s arms wrapped around his waist weren’t such a comfortable presence. “I do have a very comfy bed,” Harry admits, rubbing his thumbs on Louis’ stomach, underneath his t-shirt. Louis can’t wait until he finally gets Harry’s hands on him properly. He can’t wait until he gets to properly puts his hand on Harry.

They look at each other in silence for a while, comfortably wrapped around each other until Louis starts laughing uncontrollably. He’s not sure if the wine or the situation that has him so giddy, but he’ll take it either way. 

“Come on, Lou,” Harry says with a giggle, finally stepping away from him. He drags him by the hand to his bedroom and Louis takes a minute to appreciate the room.

He can’t quite believe he’s never seen it before. He’s been to Harry’s place before, but they’ve stayed in much more neutral rooms like the kitchen or the living room. Tonight though there is no more neutrality, Louis thinks a he takes in the grey walls and the few paintings hanging. All of his furnitures are black and his duvet is white, fluffy and looks like someone could get lost forever in it. Harry has impeccable taste, but Louis knew that already. It’s a miracle Harry even manages to accomplish anything with a room looking as comfortable as that, Louis ponders for a moment.

He jumps a little when Harry clears his throat and he finally focuses his attention back on him.

“Sorry,” Louis says sheepishly. “I’ve never seen your bedroom before.”

Harry just nods. “Yeah, I know. It’s okay.” He waits a little bit, shuffling nervously on his feet, his cheeks still red from the alcohol and the kissing. “What do you think?” he asks awkwardly.

Louis thinks they should get back to the kissing, but he doesn’t want to be the one to initiate it. 

"I like it. Very peaceful. You must sleep well," Louis says weirdly. What is he talking about? Louis is so bad at this.

Harry laughs and drags Louis to the bed. "Yeah. Definitely. I don't fancy sleeping right now, though."

He sits down on the bed and put Louis on top of him, grabbing his hips.

"No sleeping," Louis agrees, rolling his hips purposefully slow.

Harry moans in response, gripping even tighter. “Fuck,” he says. “Glad you agree with me then." 

His voice is huskier than ever before and Louis wants to die. There is a very high possibility that it’s the wine talking, but still. He never thought he would ever get this. He suddenly realizes that he’s been pretty passive so far, overwhelmed by Harry and the situation, but that will not do. He chooses a spot on Harry’s neck and start sucking earnestly and he is quickly delighted to realise that Harry is actually shaking with want.

“I want you so fucking much Lou,” Harry. “So much. You have no idea." 

Louis doesn’t reply, couldn’t possibly reply to this so he keeps on sucking on Harry’s flesh, suddenly determined to leave his mark. They aren’t moving together and Louis certainly doesn’t understand. They should be thrusting against each other. They should be naked. His cock is a heavy weight pressed painfully against the zipper of his trousers. He needs relief, but Harry is still holding his hips, letting himself be marked frantically by Louis.

“Please,” Louis says when he’s finally satisfied with the huge love bite he’s painted on Harry’s skin. “Do something.”

Harry nods breathlessly. “Yeah, yeah,” he manages to say through the panting, kneading Louis’ arse cheeks like they are dough. “Can I suck you off?” he asks earnestly and Louis thinks he might pass out. His eyes are wide and green and slightly unfocused because of the alcohol, but the determination, the pure need, Louis sees in them is all Harry and Harry alone. His cheeks are red, as red as his mouths and Louis actually shudders imagining the feel of those obscene lips wrapped around him. 

“God, yes. Please. Do it.” 

Harry doesn’t waste any time. As soon as he has Louis’ permission, he turns them over and lays Louis on his back on the bed, spread out, spent. He takes the bottom of  Louis’ t-shirt and slowly undresses him. It can’t take more than a few seconds, but it feels like forever to Louis who just wants to feel Harry everywhere, who just needs some sort of relief soon. Once his t-shirt is removed, Louis hopes that Harry will get on with it and finally free his cock from the constraint of his trouser, but alas. Harry likes to take his time apparently and he starts pressing kisses and little bites all over Louis’ torso, spending a great length of time on Louis’ collarbones, where the words It Is What It Is are permanently written on his skin. It’s pure torture. Delicious, delicious torture. 

“Harry,” Louis complains when he’s still giving attention to his chest after five more minutes. “Don’t tease.”

“M’ not,” Harry mumbles in his chest.

“Yes, you are,” Louis argues.

Harry comes up to Louis’ face then, looking deadly serious as he stares into Louis’ eyes. “I’ve been wanting you for so long,” he says and Louis’s heart actually stops breathing at that. There is no way this beautiful, wonderful person wants him back. “I don’t want to miss out on anything,” Harry continues and Louis might cry. He might actually start crying before he gets to have sex with Harry and how fucking mortifying would that be. He’s about nine-five percent sure that it is the wine messing with his emotions. But still. He most definitely does not want it to happen. So he thrusts purposefully against Harry, making him gasp loudly. “Yeah, okay. Okay,” Harry finally agrees. 

He lowers himself to Louis’ hips. Finally. Finally. There are angels singing a chorus of Hallelujah in Louis’ mind as Harry’s head comes to level with his crotch. He unbuttons Louis’ jeans, but still asks of Louis to wait as he kisses his tummy and bites at his hipbones. Louis whines, rising his hips, trying to get as much friction as possible. Harry tuts mockingly and it’s not fair. Louis has done his waiting. Louis has been waiting for months. He remembers the first underwear ads of Harry’s he’d ever seen, all those months ago and how he was ridiculously still trying to maintain his stupid rule of no crush, no jerking off to models he might work it. He remembers looking at Harry’s body and feeling himself shiver from want. He remembers staring at the V of Harry’s hips and wondering to himself how? He remembers getting hard as he had stared at Harry’s hands and had imagined himself sucking on those long fingers. He remembers feeling so overwhelmed by lust. He remembers telling himself not to touch, trying to will his erection away, refusing to break his record. He remembers the heat of Harry’s gaze on paper. It’s nothing like the way Harry’s looking at him now, so beautifully, mouth opened against his jeans, just breathing on his thighs. Louis has never wanted anyone the way he wants Harry. With his whole dumb body and his whole dumb soul. It’s so stupid, but he can’t help thinking it. 

Harry doesn’t do anything, though. He just breathes, pants really, on Louis’ opened trouser, looking at him with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, passing his hand roughly through Harry’s curls. 

Harry giggles teasingly and Louis thrusts up again in response. “You really want this?” Harry teases.

Louis gulps and nods slowly. “You have no idea how much,” he says seriously, letting his thumb fall from Harry’s head to his face, to his bottom lip. Harry catches it and sucks on it for a few seconds, eyes closed, completely lost in the sensation and Louis moans at the sight.

The thing about Harry is that he’s always sexual in some way. Whether he’s trying to be or not. He blinks slowly in a way that seems seductive and smiles coyly and bites his lips. He shuffles around awkwardly, wide-eyed and all smiles. He’s hard to resist. He doesn’t mean to, at least, Louis doesn’t think he does, but it’s the vibe he sends off. Intensely sexual. He has that strong magnetism that attracts everybody to him. It’s like he can’t help himself almost.

Harry trying to be sexual though is something else entirely, Louis thinks as he keeps sucking on Louis’ thumb teasingly. It’s so hot and Louis can’t possibly get any harder, it’s just impossible and yet. Harry looks sinful as he lets go of Louis' thumb. He smiles softly at him and finally starts taking Louis' trousers off.

"Let's see it then," he whispers with a smile. 

Louis gulps as they both work together to get Louis naked. When they've finally succeeded, Harry makes a small wiggle of victory and Louis hates how much he absolutely love it. Harry lowers himself again and he's not teasing anymore. He sucks on the tip of Louis' cock first and Louis moans loudly. It's been quite a while since anyone blew him and he'd almost forgotten how much he loves it. Almost.

Harry, once started, is relentless it turns out and he licks the underside, the slit, even goes down to suckle a little a Louis' balls. It's both too much and not enough and Louis loves every second of it. After a few minutes of licking, Harry finally starts taking Louis in his mouth properly. Louis' hand rubs against Harry's cheek softly, where he can feel in cock through the skin.

"Fuck," Louis says and it seems like it's the only word he knows anymore. Twenty-six years of speaking the English language and a mouth around his cock is what suffice to reduce him to a vulgar sailor. Or something.There's a good metaphor in there, related to Harry's ship tattoo, but Louis is both too lazy and way too turned on to go and find it. Instead, he closes his eyes, trying to delay his orgasm by not looking at where he and Harry are joined. The visual is a little bit too much for Louis' inebriated state; the red of Harry's cheeks, the stretch of his lips around Louis' cock, the way his cheeks hollow whenever he gives a particularly good suck that makes Louis' toes curl in pleasure... It's all a little too intense for Louis right now. He simply can't deal with it.

After a while, Harry stops and Louis opens his eyes slowly, like waking up from a pleasant dream. 

"Don't close your eyes," Harry pouts, his voice lower, scratchier and Louis' cock made that. He goes back to it, going even further, pressing his nose against Louis' tummy and it’s game over. Louis tries to warn Harry. He really does. But his orgasm takes him by surprise so much that he can only let it wash over him in waves of pure pleasure as Harry swallows every last drop of him.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry..." Louis mumbles incoherently, still shocked by the violence, and rapidity of his orgasm.

Harry just shrugs, unbothered and smiles at Louis. "Give a guy a warning next time, yeah?" he teases and Louis tries to push at his face or something, anything to get back at him, but Harry just laughs brightly and just goes back up towards Louis' face, kissing every inch of skin that he meets on his way up. 

“I’ll try if you try not to sneak attack me with your blowjob skills,” Louis offers, surprised that he still have the energy to tease despite everything and mostly not focusing on Harry saying next time. Harry said next time because he wants there to be a next time. Harry wants to do this again. With Louis. Harry wants them both to do this again. Together.  Harry really likes him. He likes him enough to give him a blowjob and hint at the next time like it’s obvious that there’s going to be one.

Harry laughs in Louis’ mouth at his comment and starts kissing him again.

“You really like kissing, don’t you?” Louis says and his voice is really soft and for the first time with Harry, Louis doesn’t mind that his vulnerability is showing.

Harry smiles in response and Louis drags his thumb in the dimple that automatically appear when the smile is this big. Harry’s smile widens at that and he turns slowly to kiss said thumb. It's cute. Everything about Harry is cute and he said next time, so. 

“Kissing is really underrated,” Harry replies and he kisses Louis again. 

Louis can’t really argue with that. He doesn’t think he kissed anyone for so long since he was in secondary school. Most of his boyfriends at uni, or after, weren’t really too concerned with kissing. They would, of course, to say hello or see you later or let’s have sex, but not like this. Not this thoroughly or with so much joy. 

“You’re right,” Louis agrees boneless, breathless and exhausted. “Sure you wouldn’t prefer to do something about that,” Louis says as he moves his hip against Harry’s. He’s still clothed, hasn’t even come, and that doesn’t seem really fair in Louis’ mind. 

Harry shrugs and hides his face in Louis’ neck, taking a big sniff.

“Are you smelling me?” Louis asks, curious.

Harry stills for a while. “... Yes,” he admits. “You smell really good,” he adds quickly, seemingly embarrassed.

“That’s cute, you're a cute drunk,” Louis replies. “Does it turn you on?” Louis adds, moving his hips again.

Harry moans. “Everything about you turns me on,” he admits, words slurred.

“Oh yeah?” Louis asks as he lowers a hand under Harry’s jeans, under his pants, reaching for the skin.

“Yeah,” Harry repeats, breathless. 

“Like what?” Louis asks, biting and licking his ear. He rubs at Harry’ cheeks, barely hinting, barely stroking the cleft.

“I like your smell.”

“I already know that,” Louis teases.

“Your eyes,” Harry stutters when Louis finally gets to the rim. He doesn’t move further though, just rest his finger against Harry’s hole. Harry finally starts moving back and forth, rubbing himself against Louis’ hips. The zipper of his trouser hurts a bit. It’ll probably leave a mark on Louis’ skin, but he couldn’t care less right now, not when he has a lapful of horny boy whispering all the things he adores about him.

“What else?” Louis asks, moving a little bit so that Harry’s cock is pressed against his thigh, allowing Louis more leverage.

“I…” Harry starts, thrusting vigorously. “Your arse,” he finally manages to let out with a moan and Louis pities him a bit so he takes his hands out of Harry’s pants and reaches the button of his trouser. When the jeans are halfway off, trapped under Harry’s arse, Louis reaches for him against, presses him back against his thigh. He kisses Harry’s cheeks, his nose, as he simply pants against Louis. 

“What else Harry?” Louis asks shakily when he feels the slick of Harry’s precome on his thigh. He spits loudly in his hand and gives Harry a few jerks between them.

“Fu-” Harry takes a deep breath and they move together, rub together, spreading the wetness between them both. 

“What else?” Louis insists, gripping Harry’s arse again, pressing his mouth against Harry’s.

“I like that you’re smaller than me,” Harry admits and whines at a particularly good thrust.

Louis needs more, now. He needs to see Harry come completely undone. He needs to ruin him. He takes a hand off Harry’s arse and brings it to his mouth, pressing two fingers in. Harry sucks them eagerly, without question, and hums around them. Louis waits a few more second, to be sure they’re wet enough, and he brings them back to the cleft of Harry’s arse.  He gives Harry a significant look, silently asking permission and only when he sees Harry nodding does he push the first fingers in. It seems to spur Harry on, making him rub harder against Louis. He’s close, Louis can feel it in his erratic movements. He fucks Harry slowly with his finger, adding a second quickly after the first, scissoring him open. Harry whines loudly, prettily and Louis feels him tighten around his fingers and splatter over his thigh. He brings his second hand to Harry’s back, rubbing him soothingly, holding him through his orgasm.

“That was beautiful,” Louis whispers softly, kissing Harry's cheek. “So beautiful.”

Harry hides his face in Louis’ neck and breathes for a few seconds, both of them pressed tightly together. 

“That,” Harry starts, clearing his throat. “was amazing." 

Louis nods, unsure that they are words strong enough to describe how he feels right now. Harry miraculously manages to get up and start taking his clothes off and Louis has to laugh at that because how ridiculous is it, that they were in such a hurry that they couldn’t even take Harry’s clothes off.

“What?” Harry slurs, tangled in his trousers.

“Look at you,” Louis says softly. “Couldn’t even get you properly naked.”

Harry laughs too as he takes his t-shirt off and throws it on the floor. He stands in his naked glory and Louis actually stops breathing. He is the most beautiful man Louis has ever seen there is no doubt about it. Never mind what rubbish he told Zayn to comfort his ego, Harry is one hundred percent the most amazing and breathtaking man in the world. He’s completely infatuated so obviously he might be biased, but still. In that moment, staring at Harry from across the room as he starts walking towards the bathroom, Louis means it. He definitely means all of it.

A few minutes later, Harry comes back with a flannel and cleans them up. He gets in bed and cuddles close to Louis. Naked together in the dark, Louis thinks he would be okay with dying right this instant. He wouldn’t mind if it meant that his last memory would be of the feel of Harry’s naked flesh pressed everywhere against his, from head to toes, stomach against back. Louis loves it even if they are both sweaty and gross. There is still some come clinging to his skin and he knows that it’ll be uncomfortable in the morning, but, for now, Louis doesn’t care.

 

*

 

The next morning, Louis wakes up with a headache. He’s too hot, he’s itchy and he feels like he might puke. If only a little. He’s not sure what happened or even where he is and it takes him quite a long while to realize he’s at Harry’s when he finally braves the light and opens both eyes. He closes them immediately, refusing to acknowledge what happened.

The memories of the previous night start flashing through his mind, at a quick, disturbing pace and the desire to vomit manifests itself even more strongly. Oh, god. What did he do?

He remembers it, of course. He wasn’t that drunk, which actually might be the worst part of this. Louis wasn’t that drunk. Certainly not drunk enough to make such a huge, impossible mistake. The night was perfect, of course. And Harry. Beautiful, sweet Harry… He was perfect too. Everything about the entire night was flaw free. Apart from one tiny little detail which is that Harry is a man very much committed to someone else.

Louis wants to cry. He remembers all those lovely things Harry told him. All the lies probably. How much he wanted him, how much he’s always wanted him… Lies. Lies. Lies. Nothing but fabrications. Nothing could ever happen between them. It was always this way. Louis knew this. Louis has always known this. And yet, he let it happen like an idiot. He let Harry kiss him. He encouraged him like the idiot that he is. And now, now Louis will lose not one, but two dear friends. Hell, even Zayn will probably abandon him too. After what he’s done, Louis could not blame him. Zayn is Mr. Commitment. Mr. Perfect. He could never condone adultery. Which is what Louis did. Oh god, he’s going to be sick. Louis will actually be sick all over Harry’s bed.

He needs to leave. He needs to leave now. He has to not be there anymore. He’s not sure he could deal with Harry’s face or Harry’s body or Harry’s voice or Harry’s anything really. Louis cannot deal with it now. He can barely - read cannot -  deal with himself right now. He untangles himself from Harry as quietly as possible and gets up from the bed. He mourns a few seconds at the thought that he had to untangle himself, actually untangle himself, from Harry as he picks his clothes up from the floor. It creaks a little and Louis stops moving, stops breathing, as he stares at the still form on the bed. Harry is still breathing deeply it seems and Louis lets out a tiny sigh of relief. He just can’t. Not right. Probably not ever, but most definitely not right now. Maybe in a couple of days or a few decades, Louis will get over his shame though it’s quite unlikely and maybe, maybe, at this point he’ll be ready to face Harry again. As he closes the door behind him quietly, Louis thinks it’ll most definitely not be the case. He doesn’t start crying until he gets home. With each fallen tears, Louis hates himself a little bit more.

 

*

 

Louis gets home and calls Zayn in a panic, blubbering incoherently on the phone. Twenty minutes later Zayn bursts into his flat, wide-eyed, clearly worried and Louis only take a few seconds to feel guilty about it before returning to feeling guilty about Harry and Cara.

“What happened?” Zayn asks, dragging Louis into a tight hug.

“Oh god,” Louis moans. “I messed up Zayn.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is.”

Louis shakes his head into Zayn’s shoulder and pushes him away a little. They walk to the living room and Louis can’t sit down, can’t settle himself, not after what he’s done. Zayn doesn’t sit either, he just watches Louis with big expressive eyes.

“What is it?” he asks again. 

Louis sighs, not really willing to reveal the truth, but still knowing he’ll feel much better for it.

“Louis you’re freaking me out, okay?” Zayn reveals and Louis can tell. 

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean to. I just…”

“What?”

“I just don’t know how to say this…” Louis says. 

“It’s me. You know you can tell me anything,” Zayn argues and it’s true. They’ve been friends forever, or what feels like it. They went through all of this together, fell into this crazy world holding on tight to each other’s hand.

“I slept with Harry,” Louis confesses and it sounds so much worse when he says it out loud, almost like he could still deny it when the fact was a mere idea in his brain. But he’s let it loose now. It's escaped, it’s out of his control, and everyone will know, everyone will see how much of a horrible person Louis really is. He feels like it’s tattooed on his face now, in bright red letters, unavoidable, inescapable. He slept with someone else’s boyfriend. Worse, he slept with his friend’s boyfriend. He is a horrible person. He really, really is. 

Zayn is quiet for a little while, probably processing the information, and just looks at Louis curiously.  

“And that’s a bad thing?” he finally asks hesitantly.

Louis’ mouth opens in shock. “Zayn!” he yells. “Of course, it’s a bad thing.”

“But I thought you liked Harry,” Zayn continues, clearly confused.

“I adore Harry,” Louis says with passion. “That’s the problem.”

“The problem is you sleeping with people you like?” Zayn asks and Louis has the feeling he’s misunderstanding on purpose at this point.

“No, the problem is my being a horrible person! Zayn, keep up.” 

“I legitimately have no idea what you’re talking about…” Zayn whispers. 

He looks scared, eyeing Louis suspiciously like he’s going to explode any seconds. Maybe he will, who knows? Louis certainly doesn't. He’s such a mixture of uncomfortable feelings. Even the good feelings from his amazing night with Harry are ruined by the growing guilt in his belly, expanding in his lungs with every breath he takes, poisoning the air he breathes.

“Are you drunk?” Zayn adds after a few minutes.

“I wish,” Louis says and he’s actually a little bit hungover, the ghost of a headache at the back of his mind. But that might just be remorse and shame. Louis is not sure.

“Okay, then do you mind explaining what’s going on right now?” Zayn says with a little awkward laugh. 

“I told you I slept with Harry,” Louis repeats dramatically. What part of this is ambiguous to Zayn really?

“Yeah, you did say that. I still don’t understand how that makes you a bad person." 

“Well, I’m pretty sleeping with someone’s boyfriend doesn’t exactly make me a contestant for the best guy ever award,” Louis sarcastically.

“Someone’s boyfriend?” Zayn repeats, confused. 

“Yes,” Louis says, happy that Zayn is finally catching up.

“Someone’s boyfriend? Whose? Since when is Harry someone’s boyfriend? He’s been flirting with you for weeks?”

“Yeah. Models,” Louis says regretfully.

“Oh don’t start with your stupid prejudiced bullshit and tell me who Harry’s supposed to be dating?” Zayn asks in an annoyed voice. He likes to think of himself as the defender whenever Louis gets in one of his anti-model rants. He said no more for a reason, he did. Why didn’t he listen to himself? Why? Why? Why?

“Cara,” Louis sighs, exasperated.

“Cara?” Zayn repeats, frowning. “Our Cara? Cara Delevingne?”

“How many Cara do we know?” Louis asks.

“Since when is she dating Harry?” Zayn says.

Louis shakes his head. Zayn is so out of the loop sometimes. It’s usually charming, but right now Louis would really appreciate it if Zayn had shown a bit more interest in gossips these past few months.

“Since… Ages!” Louis yells. “And I slept with him anyway and I’m awful, worst person ever and that’s what you missed on Glee!”

“Okay,” Zayn says. “Deep breath.”

Louis is not sure exactly why he’s obeying, but breathing calmly with Zayn is better than hyperventilation, so.

“You know he’s dating Cara for sure? Like one hundred percent?” Zayn asks.

“Of course, I know Zayn!” Louis argues. What isn’t he getting? “There’s pictures of them all over the place!”

Zayn frowns and looks at him like he’s an actual crazy person. “There’s pictures of us together all over the place.”

“It’s not the same Zayn, you know that,” Louis says, irritated by his friend’s behaviour.

“How is it not the same? Hell, at some point I’m pretty sure there were pictures of you and Cara all over the place. Before you became a bad friend to her and start blowing her off and ignoring her or something. Is that why? ‘Cause you thought she was dating Harry?”

Louis whines. “I am a bad friend.”

Zayn shakes his head quickly. “No, no. Louis, I didn’t mean that.”

“I slept with her boyfriend. I’m pretty sure that makes me the worse friend in the world. Ughh. I’m the other woman. God.”

“You don’t know that Louis.”

“I actually I do,” Louis cries and Zayn gives him a suspicious look. 

“Did Harry say that?” Zayn asks. “With actual words.”

He didn’t per say. Louis had been very adamant that they don’t talk too much about their personal lives or their mutual friends, stirring the conversation away whenever it seemed to be headed in a direction that was in any way related to Cara. Louis didn’t need to hear all about it. Knowing that he didn’t have a chance was painful in itself enough, he didn’t need to know the details of Harry’s happiness.

“Yes,” Louis lies.

Zayn stills for a second, clearly shocked. “He said that?”

Louis nods. “He told me they were dating, okay.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m officially a horrible person,” Louis continues.

“Lou…” Zayn whispers.

“Can we not talk about it anymore?” Louis says in a small voice because he thinks that if he talks about it anymore he will actually be sick.

“Look, it’s not all on you, okay. Harry was a part of this as well.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s actually part of the problem, isn’t it?” Louis says sharply. He wants to be mad at Harry. He really does. But he can’t seem to muster the strength, not when the moment they had was so amazing, so special… And what was it for? Nothing. 

“I knew I had to stay away from models!” Louis says darkly, triumphantly. “Yay me!” he adds sarcastically.

“Louis. Have you talked to him?” Zayn asks. 

Louis’ eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly. There is very little he can imagine not wanting to do as much as talking to Harry. It’s pretty much the top of the list. Hell, it could be argued that Not Talking to Harry is the list. Just that written over and over and over in red ink in Louis’ mind.

“Maybe you should?”

“I don’t think so. He probably doesn’t want to talk to me…” Louis says in a small voice.

“Is that why he called you nine times this morning?” Zayn asks holding Louis’ phone.

“Hey, give that back!” Louis says, trying to reach for it. Zayn is acting like a jerk, of course, he is, and he uses Louis’ height against him, raising an arm above his head, putting the phone just out of reach.

“What did you tell him this morning? When you woke up?”

Louis stops trying to get the phone and looks at his vans, hand ruffling his hair nervously. “Not much,” he just says.

“Louis,” Zayn protests. “Tell me you did not leave without saying anything.”

“Fine,” Louis says. “Then I won’t tell you.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“I’m adulterous is what I am Zayn.”

“You can’t just pretend this didn’t happen,” Zayn argues. 

Louis doesn’t agree. He could easily pretend that this didn’t happen. He does it all the time. He’s conveniently forgotten that time in secondary school when Jamie outed him to his entire class  and made him a social pariah in the process. It’s completely blanked out of his mind. He hasn’t thought about it in years. And he certainly hasn’t told anyone. He’s been very good at pretending it didn’t happen. This catastrophe doesn’t have to have to be any different. Of course, it would be slightly more complicated considering the way their social circles overlap. The Venn diagram of their relationship could be problematic, but Louis can make it. He’s a champ. He can make anything happen. It might hurt for a while… Seeing Harry on all those billboards and those magazines, but conveniently there is wine for that. Louis is sorted.

“Of course, I can,” Louis protests vehemently.

Zayn sighs and puts his hand up in the air dramatically. “And that’s such a healthy and adult way of dealing with things?” he asks.

“Oh come on,” Louis argues. “That is not fair. You can’t expect me to deal with this in an adult way? It’s a mess.”

“Yeah, an adult one,” Zayn says.

“Ughhhh… Just go away,” Louis whines. “If you’re going to be a dick about it.”

Zayn joins Louis on the sofa with a loud sigh. “‘Course I’m gonna be a dick about it. What else are friends for?”

Louis laughs and hides his face on Zayn’s shoulder. “What am I gonna do?” he asks, desperate and he realizes he really does want Zayn’s opinion on this. He usually just picks whatever the hell he wants to do, other people be damned! But in this case? He feels stupidly lost and he does want Zayn’s advice. Zayn who seems to have everything figured out.

Zayn shrugs. “You don’t want to do what I want you to do.” 

“I don’t know if I can face him.”

“Why?” Zayn asks.

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? What is Louis so afraid of? Harry wants him back or, at least, wanted him back. He should feel happy or proud or contended. Thing is, being with Harry was better than he expected. It was greater and more important than he thought it would be and he’s not sure he’s strong enough to listen to Harry’s apologies. Because how could Harry pick Louis? When he has a stable relationship… It was a drunken mistake, Louis knows it and he certainly doesn’t need to hear the confirmation.

“I don’t think I want to hear his rejection. I don’t think I could get through that,” Louis admits shyly into the fabric of Zayn’s shirt.

“You don’t know if he’ll reject you,” Zayn argues, running his fingers through Louis’ hair. He’s not complaining or anything because the comfort feels amazing, but he can’t help but think about longer, thicker fingers massaging his scalp and how much he wants them now.

“Why would he pick me?” Louis asks. “He as a stable relationship… With Cara who’s beautiful and fun and-”

“Hey,” Zayn interrupts. “You’re beautiful and fun.”

Louis shrugs. “I guess.”

“He had sex with you,” Zayn continues. “Surely that means something. He, at least, has doubts about his relationship.”

“He was drunk. It doesn’t mean anything,” Louis argues, trying his hardest not to think about Harry’s voice whispering to him how much he had wanted to do this for a long time.

“Did he say that? Did he act like it?” Zayn says, trying to bring Louis back to rationality. Zayn really is awesome.

Louis just shrugs. “No,” he admits.

“See. You’re putting all those stupid ideas in that pretty head of yours. You don’t even know what’s up with him. He might have broken up with Cara by now… And you don’t know and you’re miserable, just because you haven’t been brave enough to answer your mobile. Sounds a bit stupid if you ask me.”

The thing about Zayn is that he makes a lot of sense most of the time. Louis is not sure he likes it.

“I guess,” he admits reluctantly. He really really doesn’t want to call Harry or talk to Harry or do anything related to Harry. Actually, that’s not entirely true. He’d like to cuddle with Harry, but that’s not possible right now so Zayn will have to do.

“So you’re gonna call him?” Zayn insists. 

Louis sighs then shrugs, then sighs again. “Maybe,” he agrees. 

Zayn doesn’t look satisfied, but he knows not to push it.

“Can we talk about something else?” Louis asks. He just wants to distract himself from how horrible of a person he is. He can’t bear the thought of it.

“What do you want to talk about?” Zayn asks. 

“You haven’t said a word about the proposal and I can’t help but notice that it’s passed Christmas now?” Louis says.

Zayn blushes, he actually blushes.

“Oh my god, you did it!” Louis says. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me you dick. It’s been three days.”

“I’ve been busy,” Zayn says sheepishly and Louis really didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, wow,” he says. “Too much information.”

Zayn shrugs timidly. “It was great,” he just says and Louis is so not down with that. 

“It was great?” he repeats. “It was great?”

Zayn just looks at him, confused. “Yeah, it went well.”

“My life is a complete disaster right now Zayn. I can’t even bear to think about it. In fact, I might puke a little if I do... I need to live vicariously through you and all you give me is it went well?? What the hell mate? Tell me everything.”

Zayn laughs. “Hum. Well, I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to do it, you know?” 

“You hadn’t planned anything?”

Zayn frowns. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were kidding,” Louis replies. “Who doesn’t plan a proposal? Especially to a superstar who gets marriage proposal literally every day.”

Zayn gives him a nasty look. “Well, I wasn’t prepared okay. I just didn’t want to get out of my head and do something insane, right? I wanted something small and stuff. Intimate.”

“Fair enough,” Louis admits. He wouldn’t want to do something crazy either if he were proposing to someone.

“And I thought about doing in front of her family, you know? Like after dinner and stuff. But I didn’t to put her on the spot like that.. Didn’t seem fair." 

Louis nods and once again marvels at Zayn’s thoughtfulness.

“I mean, like, what if she didn’t want to get married? Or didn’t want it right now? I didn’t want her to feel pressured to say yes ‘cause everyone was there…”

“Very nice,” Louis agrees. 

“Yeah, it always pisses me off in films and stuff. So. We ate and I took her for a walk, it was snowing a little… And I asked her,” Zayn finishes clumsily with a dreamy look on his face.

“And??” Louis insists, fishing for more details. As long as Zayn tells his story, he’s not thinking. And that’s good. As long as Zayn has a good story to tell, Louis can forget his.

“And she said yes,” Zayn says.

Louis rolls his eyes. “How did you ask?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Zayn says. “Down on one knee? In the snow? Will you marry me? That was basically it.”

“You’re a shit story-teller basically,” Louis says meanly. Zayn just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “But I’m happy for you.”

 

*

 

Louis hasn't left his flat in 43 hours when he gets a text from Cara. 

_You're a dick._

He feels blank and numb as he reads it and he can't help but nod in agreement.

He really is. 

 

*

 

There’s a knock on his door twenty minutes before midnight on New Year's Eve and Louis really doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want Zayn to try and cheer him up. He doesn’t want to be dragged to some stupid party where he’ll have to pretend to be happy. Sure, getting even drunker seems like a wonderful perspective, but he can easily do that here. He has some vodka somewhere. The only reason he hasn’t opened yet is that he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve the blissful feeling of oblivion a blackout would bring. No. Louis deserves to feel every second of guilt. Which is why he's sticking to red wine and in small dosage. Just drunk enough to be a bit weepy, but not yet where he wishes he could be. They say the evening of New Year’s Eve is a reflection on how someone will spend their next year and Louis deserves to be alone. He deserves to be alone and sad and miserable. He should just sit in his bedroom in the dark, rereading Cara’s text and feeling like the scum of the Earth and there’s nothing that Zayn could say to change that.

Louis waits a few minutes but, irritatingly, the knocking doesn’t stop. Can’t a man be miserable in peace on New Year’s Eve? Seriously, he should move to a faraway country like… Canada. Or Japan. Somewhere where his annoying friends can’t try to get involved inappropriately in his life.

He sighs loudly and reluctantly gets out of bed. He keeps his blanket wrapped around his shoulder like a cape, unwilling to let go of the warmth, and carry his half empty wine bottle with him as well, not caring how pathetic it makes him look. He does have the decency to throw a beanie on his catastrophic hair, hiding the greasy mess that formed on his head between his night at Harry's and now.

"Seriously Zayn, I'm not in the mood!" Louis snaps as he opens the door.

Harry's unsure face is the only thing meeting him on the other side and Louis actually feels sick. He gulps, forcing himself not puke on Harry's shoes. 

"Hi," Harry mumbles. 

Louis doesn't answer.

"Can I come in?" Harry asks hesitantly. 

Louis really, really doesn't want him to come.

"S'just... I don't really fancy doing this in the doorway..."

Louis nods numbly and leads Harry to the living room. He can see Harry taking in the complete and utter mess of his flat, but he has the delicacy of not commenting.

"What do you want?" Louis asks quickly. He doesn't have the strength to be rejected slowly.

Harry opens his mouth, but no words come out. 

"So?" Louis continues and he wishes he could stop being mean, but his head feels fuzzy and he feels awful.

"I know you don't want to talk to me, okay. I get it. I just wanted to know what happened? I thought..." Harry stops and bites his fingers for a few seconds. "I thought things were going well between us and if you only wanted a one night stand, I get it, but you should have told me instead of just blowing me off all the time... Not taking my calls or answering my texts..."

"You thought things were going well?" Louis says mockingly. "I think you should go."

"Seriously?" Harry asks eyes hurt and a little wet. 

"Go back to your girlfriend Harry!" Louis says and he _hateshateshates_ how weak he sounds, about to cry over this stupid beautiful boy. 

"Wait, what?" Harry asks, confusion written all over his face.

Louis sighs, exasperated. "Your girlfriend?" he repeats. 

"I don't have a girlfriend," Harry says, still frowning.

"Oh, whatever it is you and Cara are calling I don't care, you should go back to her."

"You think I'm dating Cara?" Harry says and there's something in his incredulous tone that makes Louis stop.

"Aren't you?" he asks hesitantly. He can't possibly have gotten this wrong.

"Of course not!" Harry says. "We're friends."

"But..."

"Why would you think that?" 

"I... I just..." Louis starts, fumbling. "Wait..." he says quickly, heart hammering violently in his chest. "That time, when you invited me to lunch and cooked for me? Was that a date?" he asks incredulously, starting to see things from a completely different point of view. 

"Yes!" Harry replies, wide-eyed and slightly exasperated. 

"Oh," Louis simply says and he feels like he's just been hit in the face with a hammer. "Hyde park?" he asks hesitantly. 

Harry rolls his eyes. "Yes." How could he have been so blind?

"Right," Louis says, trying to process it all. "So, you're not dating Cara?" He asks, needing to hear it again, because while it's wonderful news that makes his heart flutter, he still has a hard time fully understanding it.

"No," Harry says, horrified. "Of course not."

"You're not dating anyone?" Louis continues, because this is a point that needs to be stressed.

Harry sighs and shakes his head, clearly a bit irritated by Louis' insistence, but Louis is drunk, okay and he needs to make sure he's not having a very elaborate New Year's Eve hallucination.

"I was hoping to date you, actually," Harry replies with a small smile.

"Why didn't you say so?" Louis asks dramatically, gesticulating, spilling wine on his floor and it looks like they've come full circle, except he's the clumsy one this time.

"I asked you out like ten times," Harry whines, outraged. 

Louis guesses that it explains how hard it was to talk himself down and convinces himself they weren't dates. 

"Well, then say so! Oh hey, this is a date by the way," Louis still argues his point. He'll stick to this until the very end, he's going down with his ship damn it!

"I took you ice skating in Hyde Park? How more date-y does it needs to be?" Harry replies and he does have a fair point, but Louis has spent the past week thinking he was a disgusting, adulterous traitor okay, Harry is not allowed to win this one. 

"You could have kissed me! Oh, hey Louis! Here's my tongue in your mouth. By the way, this is a date?!" Louis is frantic and hysterical, he knows he is, and it'll be a miracle if Harry still wants him after that little display, but he can't help himself. This is so fucked up. He feels silly and stupid. There's no way Harry will want to build anything with him after he realises how truly messed up Louis is.

"I did," Harry says with a little laugh, shaking his head and he's right, he did.

Louis sighs loudly and takes a big gulp of wine. "Yeah," he finally whispers, eyes fixed the floor. "You did, didn't you?"

He risks a look up and sees Harry nods. He doesn't look mad at all despite the fact that Louis has been yelling at him for about ten minutes. He really is a good one.

"I'm an idiot," Louis adds with certainty.

Harry nods again, slower this time, like he doesn't want to fuel Louis' anger and that's so fucking sweet Louis can feel the cavities forming. 

They look at each other in silence for a few seconds. 

"So?" Harry finally says, looking young and almost hopeful.

"So what?" Louis asks wearily.

"Can I stick my tongue in your mouth to indicate my interest?" Harry says in a mocking tone.

Louis gasps, shocked. "Zero out of ten for romance, seriously Styles," He deadpans to hide the somersaults his heart just did.

"Already tried that," Harry replies with smugness. "But you didn't call me back after we slept together and thought I was dating my best friend so..." Harry shrugs and he looks all loose and happy, his most charming smile on. "Figured you required a more direct approach."

Louis closes his eyes for a second, appreciating the anticipation.

"Shut up and kiss me," he finally says.

Harry laughs and crosses the room in a few seconds. He grabs Louis' waist, lifts him off the ground and Louis automatically wraps his legs around Harry's narrow waist. "Yes, sir," Harry says in Louis' mouth before finally pressing their lips together. They kiss passionately for awhile, open-mouthed and frantic. Louis buries his hands in Harry's hair, tugging at the curls insistently. 

"I still want you," Harry whispers roughly after a few minutes. "I'm not drunk and I'm not dating anyone and I really really want you, Louis."

Louis smiles shyly in Harry's neck. "I want you too," he sighs in Harry's ear and he can feel Harry's arms tightening around his waist. He can hardly believe how lucky he is right now, can't believe he gets this. Louis feels the heat and arousal spreading throughout his entire body like a sip of burning hot tea; almost unbearably warm and leaving him breathless.

"Where's your bedroom?" Harry whines, impatient. Louis jumps out of his arms immediately and starts to push him around his flat until he reaches the threshold. It's a bit of a war zone, after the week he's had, but he doesn't think Harry will mind. Not when he's like this.

"Just make yourself comfortable," Louis says. "I'll be right back."

He runs to the bathroom, grabs his toothbrush and starts brushing his teeth while looking obsessively for his phone.  _H wasn't dating Cara :S,_ Louis texts Zayn as soon as he locates it, inconveniently placed under his kitchen table.  _I'm an idiot :),_ he adds because he's man enough to admit it. He's not proud of the way he's handled this whole thing. Not proud at all. Zayn was right, as he usually is. This was an adult situation and he should have dealt with it like an adult. Louis knows he's lucky Harry isn't a quitter. He won't make the same mistake twice. Or at least, he'll try not to. No more assumptions or losing himself in his own twisted thoughts. Not about Harry. Not about anything. He's almost thirty now, he should know better. New Year, new him.

Zayn doesn't answer until Louis has reached his bedroom door again, more or less presentable. He, unfortunately, doesn't have the time to wash his hair and he sincerely hope that Harry isn't against Beanie sex. The text simply reads:  _and 2+2=4. happy new year you dick._ _  
_

When Louis opens the door, Harry is sprawled naked on top of the duvet, absently rubbing a hand on the ship tattooed on his bicep. He looks unbothered by the complete mess Louis' depressive state has created in the room, even has the guts to comment on it.

"Love what you've done with the place," he says cheekily.

"Oi!" Louis replies, blushing, as he stars crawling on the bed still fully clothed. "I can still kick you out of my bed."

Harry reaches inside Louis' t-shirt and rubs at the small of his back. "I don't think you will, though."

"You don't know that," Louis argues, rubbing their nose together, making Harry giggle.

"I think you like me too much," Harry replies before kissing Louis again.

 _Happy New Year indeed_ , Louis thinks as he kisses Harry back. 

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo, did anyone catch my matt smith reference?
> 
> you can hit me up on [ tumblr ](http://www.mediawhorefics.tumblr.com)


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